Friendly' Persuasion
by Aunyxx
Summary: [SLASH!] [Prowl x Soundwave, with Megatron as bystander]  The Decepticons carry out a plot to capture Prowl, but what do they want with him? and will they ever get any secrets from him?
1. Friendly' Persuasion

No, you're not hallucinating. Yes, I'm reposting this up here. Why? because everyone at livejournal told me I should. and my journal that has this stuff on it is friendslocked (why? to keep the wrong people from reading it, of course. )

I try to follow the rules of NC-17 and R fiction. I've had this stuff locked up long enough, to keep people under 18 (or under the appropriate age of any country) from reading it. But because of popular request, I have put it up here.

Also, I know a few of you know my other pennames.

Please DO NOT use them in any replies or correspondences Unless it's a PM or email.

**I wish to remain annonymous on the web.**

I know not everyone agrees with slash, and I understand that everyone is entitled to their opinion.

this started out as the entry to a fanfiction contest, simply because I wanted to win one, and it seemed easy enough at the time. Did I mention I didn't win the contest? shrugs but by then, I'd gotten enough reviews (and some begging grin for more) so I continued. Special thanks go out to lstarrunner, who helped me out bigtime with the plotline, and quite a bit of the story material in the later chapters.

Well, enough blathering. On to the fiction!

**Title:** Friendly Persuasion  
**Category:** slash  
**Rating** R  
**Warnings:** Explicit, Violent, non-con  
**Pairings:** Prowl/Soundwave (with Megatron as bystander)

You have been warned! don't like, don't read!

It had started out as a normal day, like most others. Prowl had been travelling down the highway, in response to the report of an accident a few miles away from where he was. He pulled up, noticing something was wrong as soon as his feet touched the pavement. Why were there no plice or emergency crews on the scene? The call had come from the state highway patrol dispatcher. So why was he the first one here? He listened. Not even a siren. And where was the semi that had reportedly been in the accident?

The car looked like it had been abandoned, and was laying haphazardly in the grass a few feet away, rammed from the back end so hard it had crumpled the instant it was rammed against the tree. It looked like it had been hit repeatedly. He studied the pavement. No gasoline, no human fluids that his sensors could register. Something was wrong... very wrong.

The possibility struck him, but reality asserted itself all-to-quickly when Morormaster came crashing throught the trees, the other stunticons right behind him. Prowl backed up and pulled out his gun. "Prowl to base, it was an ambush!" he fired off two shots, which ricocheted harmlessly off the Stunticon leader's forcefield.

The words had barely left his vocalizer when Motormaster's huge black fist collided with his face, and he was sent sprawling, his gun clattering a few feet away. He scrambled to get to it, but the group moved faster than he did. "Oh no you don't!" and Motormaster grabbed him by the doorwings...

-----------

Megatron studied the shuddering form huddled in a corner where he'd been thrown. His hands were still shackled behind him, his windows had been shatterd, and multiple dents and gashes marred his chassis where the Stunticons had "Had fun with him". One optic lense was cracked, and his chevron bent and twisted. His shoulders threw sparks every now and then where his sensitive doorwings and shoulder cannons had been ripped off. Megatron smirked at Motormaster's work, fondly remembering the sound of the tactician's screams in his audios.

But still, Prowl looked up at the silver Decepticon leader with defiance in his optics. Megatron simply smirked back. He knew it wouldn't be much longer untill the Autobot gave him what he wanted. His energy levels were getting dangerously low, and pretty soon he would have no will left to fight. Megatron chuckled lowly, imagining the Autobot pleading for death at his hands. He brought his thought back to the present. "First things first." He reminded himself.

"How long until we get the information we need?" he turned to Soundwave, who was standing quietly next to him.  
"Approximate time to pain threshold, four hours, thirteen minutes." the cassette player droned.

"Excellent." Megatron beamed, optics flashing bright crimson. "I have all the time in the world." He leaned against a wall to watch. "Proceed."

Prowl glared vehemently. "I will never tell you anything that can ever be used against the Autobots." he rasped, determination clear in his somewhat scratchy voice.

_"Motormaster and the others must have damaged my vocalizer."_ he thought, biting back a cough. He could 'feel' the dents in his neckplating. Desperation wormed it's way to the surface, but was quickly shoved back down.

He just wished his emergency beacon was working. Too bad they had made sure to disconnect it. Right after ripping out his radio. He cursed inwardly, and tried to think logically, not letting fear get the better of him.

"We shall see." Megatron said smugly. Soundwave turned off the forcefield and started towards him...

--------------------------------------

An hour or so later, Megatron was starting to lose patience. Even the screams and incoherent responses had been the same. And Soundwave had tried to enter Prowl's mind, finding more formidable barriers than he had thought he would.

"Well!?" Megatron snapped when Soundwave stood up. Prowl's look of pain dissipated into the same defiant look as before. Even though it wasn't as strong as it was before.

"Subject has stronger mental barriers than anticipated." Soundwave toned.

Megatron balled his fists, trying to keep his temper in check. "Is there another way?" he grated.

"Affirmative. Direct computer interfacing." Soundwave replied.

Megatron's look of suprise matched the one on Prowl's face. Then, in opposite of the Autobot's horrified expression, Megatron looked absolutely gleeful.

"Reaaallyy." Megatron said thoughtfully. He glanced at the black and white, and the Datsun's expression instantly went back to defiance. A wicked grin spread across the silver Decepticon leader's face.

"Do it." He folded his arms, and watched the Autobot's face turn to fear when Soundwave approached him.

Prowl dizzily tried to get his feet under him, but only succeeded in scooting back into the corner further, whimpering where the bare metal and circuits where his doorwings had once been scraped the wall. He got one foot under him, and started to get up, but exaustion and dizziness struck, sending him to the floor.

Soundwave bent down and uprighted him. "No! Don't!" Prowl struggled in the cassette-host's grip, trying to free himself from the pysical assault.

"Do not resist me, Auto-bot." Soundwave toned, voice emotionless. Prowl gasped and struggled more as two fingertips traced his midsection, searching for the sliding access panel there. Soundwave's thick black fingers scrabbled for purchase at the edges of the coverplate, trying to pry it open.

"Open the panel." the Decepticon commanded.

Prowl mustered all his strength, narrowing his bright blue optics into slits.

"No." and kicked at his captor.

Soundwave backhanded him, knocking him over, and another shower of sparks sprayed from his allready over abused doorwing-stubs, and a stab of electricity assaulted his sensors. Soundwave brought out two small squares, about the size of hypno-chips, from a subspace pocket. Prowl eyed the two tiny, flat, squares. "What are those... what are you.. going to.." he dared look at Megatron. Who was obviously enjoying this, from the smirk he was wearing.

Prowl tried to scoot away, but Soundwave simply maneuvered so he was straddling the black and white's legs. He ignored the squirming mech under him, and held one of the chips between two fingers leaning over. Prowl gasped when the cassette-host's fingers wormed their way into the space between his lower body and upper leg armor. The cassette player carefully pushed the narrow chip in-between the wires of the tactician's upper leg, and the Autobot tried to rock back and forth hoping to throw the heavy Decepticon off. Soundwave simply pushed his fingers in harder, forcing the wiring apart. Prowl barely bit back a whimper, hoping the Autobots would find him soon.

Once the chip was in place, Soundwave carefully repeated on the other leg. Prowl tried to ignore the pain racing across his back and tried to kick at the blue and grey Decepticon.

"Stay still." Soundwave droned.

Prowl set his jaw and tried to jerk to one side. Blue sparks jumped across the flooring, and droplets of energon filled the scrape-marks on the allready-stained tiles. He tried to ignore the cold fingers and burning pain of the tiny wires being forced apart and, probably some of them ripped in half in the process.

Soundwave relented, and Prowl tried to kick at him.

He found he couldn't move his legs.

Another wave of fear surfaced, and he forced himself to quell it.

Megatron seemed perfectly happy to explain.

"Neuro-inhibitor chips. They'll keep you from kicking Soundwave again." Megatron stated.

"One of Bombshell's more... creative inventions. They block electrical impulses around anything they touch." he explained amusedly.

Soundwave grabbed Prowl and dragged him back over to the corner so he was sitting upright. The Autobot knew this was it. There was no escape now. Even if his hands weren't still shackled behind him, he wouldn't be able to run. His only hope now was if his friends could find him before Megaton decided to turn him into so much scrap metal. He looked away, refusing to meet the stare of either Decepticon.

He was outwardly defiant, but inwardly, he was shaking with fear, even with his logic circuits trying to keep the myriad of emotions at bay.

_"Probable odds of being rescued..."_ he thought, calculating the situation. At least it was helping somewhat to distract him from what he allready knew was next.

_"Next to none."_

_"Odds they will get the Ark's security codes.."_

He hated to say it. _"ninety eight percent."_

He forced back another stab of pain. He was allready shivering at the loss of energy, and knew he was leaking energon and coolant where a couple of peices of his armor had been completely ripped off. He wondered idly if he could just... delete the files.. His thought started to wander and he brought himself back to the present, knowing it would be his end if he let himself drift off to recharge now.

_"But how to get past my memory storage bank's firewalls without Soundwave finding out?"_ he asked himself. _"If he ever does find a way to uplink."._ Prowl added to his thoughts smugly.

_"There's only one other way to get that panel open and..."_

_"oh scrap."_

he brought his thoughts back to as clear as he could get them, and tried to re-think in a way the semi-psychic Decepticon wouldn't pick up on..

_"Probability of Soundwave detecting and preventing deletion."_ he thought.

_"57.993 percent."_ His battle computer sounded for him, inside his head.

Soundwave looked _straight _at him.

So he _had_ heard it.

Prowl cursed inwardly. He winced as Sounwave's fingers dug into the tiny space at the edge of the still-sealed interface cover-plate. His fingers slipped, pressing a little too hard into a sensitive spot on the edging. Prowl whimpered softly and tried to move away. Soundwave shoved him back.

"Open the cover plate." he entoned.

Prowl didn't answer. He was too tired... he had to save what little energy he had for deleting those files, even if it meant possibly damaging or deleting part of his other memories. He looked past Soundwave, concentrating on the far wall. And getting past the first set of access codes to the data storage protocalls.

Soundwave knew there was one other way to get the panel open, and acess the well-protected interface cords. If not by Prowl willingly unlatching the plate, then by physical stimulus..

Soundwave grabbed the allready-loosened bumper and pulled, wrenching it free. Prowl tried to ignore the sharp pain, trying to reach the memory circuits before Soundwave could force his way inside his processor.  
He couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his vocaliser when Soundwave wiggled his fingers into the space between armor plates where Prowl's bumper had been. "Do not resist me, Autobot. It will only cause you pain." Soundwave said in a low voice, gently stroking the wires and delicate sensors near the surface.

Prowl whimpered and tried harder to concentrate around the thrills of electricity being sent across his chestplate. The tiny surges of electricity crackled along his sensory circuity, livening every one with pleasure and pain. Soundwave moved his left hand to gently trace the sensitive seams along Prowl's left side, and brought them forward to trace the outline of the coverplate. Prowl shivered involuntarily, and willed himself to ignore it.

The blue Decepticon's fingers that were inside him moved right slightly, fingertips brushing a small circuitboard, making a temporary circuit link, and eliciting a low, almost unheard whimper/moan. Prowl mentally cursed, and tried to relocate where he had left off in his endeavor to delete the information files.

Although, Soundwave was making quite a distraction.

The fingers moved lower, more inside, and Prowl shuddered at the sensation. Pain wrapped itself around his back and arms, and pleasure streaked across his frame from the front.

Soundwave pressed his fingertips into a particularly delicate spot, and Prowl yelped out loud, and shivered, forcing the sensation away. But it redoubled itself, and Soundwave's other hand gently traced the circuit wires near the surface, and his right hand slid even deeper, angling downward, carefully parting wires, sending another wave of pleasure/pain through the black and white Datsun.

_"I will not vocalize. I will not let them think they are getting a reaction."_ Prowl willed himself.

Soundwave grasped a thick wire inside him and gently squeezed. Prowl shut off his optics, biting back another cry.

Soundwave leaned in, so their faces were mere inches apart. "It is futile to resist me." the Decepticon practically purred into his audio. He found another wire and twisted, pressing it against an open circuit.

Prowl moaned and arched his back, trying to struggle free, but only succeeding in making the wires being held in place move back and forth, creating more sparks, and another, stronger, wave of pleasure. "No.. I have to.." he panted, not even realizing he had spoken out loud.

"You cannot resist me." Soundwave countered.

_"If only I could... find the... place...I was... "_ Prowl shivered uncontrollably, searching desperately for the memory files. Soundwave's fingers slid into his grill, pressing into the sensors on either side.

He reached the subfolder.. now if he could only...

"Aauugh!"

Soundwave ripped the front grill from it's housing, eliciting a suprised cry of pain and another shiver of pleasure at the same time from his prisoner. His darkly-colored hand shot into Prowl's exposed chest circuitry, forcing bundles of wire apart, and Prowl gasped, no longer able to hold the sensations at bay.

He whipered softly, knowing it was allready too late to do anything to save himself. He just hoped he could delete the files they were looking for before Soundwave could force his body to respond to his unwanted caresses. The hand in the lower part of him wiggled further still, and the one above it, inside where his front grill had been, maneuvered under his external plating to a power conduit cable. The hand wrapped around it, squeezing gently, and pressing into a circuit to the side at the same time. Prowl moaned aloud at the thrill of electricity sent up and down his helpless form.

"What are you-ooohhhh!" he squirmed as his body reacted to the touches in ways he really didn't want it to.

Inside, his mind was screaming "Stop! Stop it please!" But he would never give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out like that.

He would never beg for mercy.

"Resistance is useless." Soundwave nearly whispered.

Prowl could feel the Decepticon's power field pulse and beat against his own, it's strangely harmonic feeling sending vibrations through his very structure. Soundwave must have found a way to concentrate and channel that, because his fingertips quivered inside Prowl, making him whimper again, nearly at the end of his resistance.

"You'll... never find.. what you're.. looking...for." Prowl whispered hoarsely. He had reached the memory file all he had to do now was confirm the delete command. And his comrades would be safe.

"You might as.. well... give up..." Prowl dind't hold back the cough that ended that sentence. Soundwave grabbed the power conduit cable and twisted. Prowl shrieked and writhed at the sharp pain, shaking harder. Soundwave kep exploring, forcing himself into the black and white Autobot's body further; To see what other sensitive points there were he could use to his advantage.

The hand in is midsection slid lower and touched a thick cable. Prowl froze, instantly tensing. Soundwave had found the internal interface connection. Even thought the very tips of his fingers were barely brushing it, he could feel the slow vibrations of the cassetticon's aura flaring out to gently touch it.

He held back another semi-coherent cry, only letting out a small squeak, and tried to regain his composure.

But Soundwave had other plans. He moved closer so his energy field was pressing against Prowl's, clashing with it, threatening to take him over. His fingers slowly, ever-so-painfully slowly, slid downward, around the internal interface-connection cable, brushing circuits and other components on the way, sending more barely-resistible waves of energy through Prowl. Finally, Soundwave's fingers closed around the thick cable, gently squeezing, then massaging it. Prowl gasped and arched his back, involutarily pressing up against the Decepticon, losing what little resistance he had left.

He offlined his optics, no longer wanting to see anything anymore, especially the faces of his captors torturing him in this way. The cover plate on his midsection slid aside, and Soundwave's hand left his chest circuits to trace the edge of the interface port. Prowl jerked, and the hand on the inside of the cable tightened, sending a strong surge of pleasure washing over his entire body.

Prowl gathered his senses, and engaged the fianl protocall to delete the security codes from his memory.

_"Delete information? Y/N" _ his internal computer sounded.

The two fingers that were tracing the input jack on his torso relented, giving Prowl barely enough time to enter _"yes"_ and mentally hit the enter key.

He didn't even look when he felt the fingers come back, and the Soundwave's energy field flared, pounding against Prowl's.

"You're... to.. late." he gasped.

Soundwave ran his fingers along the internal cable, and Prowl's own energy field flashed before dimming down again.

Soundwave lined up the jack, and squeezed the cable.

Prowl cried out, and Soundwave shoved the plug home, connecting with a 'click'.

Prowl thought he saw stars form behind his offlined optics. Soundwave's aura of energy engulfed him all at once, and the hum seemed to surround and vibrate through him at the same time. Soundwave prodded at his mind to let him in. Prowl tried to put up another wall. Soundwave made a dissapointed sound mentally and tried to go around it.  
Another wall.

Soundwave squeezed the wire gently, making Prowl yelp, then let go of the wire. His searching fingers found an auxillary power cable and stroked it gently, sending tiny sparks in every direction. Soundwave's other hand went back to running over the exposed circuitry around the interfacing panel, pressing, teasing.

Soundwave finally moved two fingers between a pair of sensitive circuits just under Prowl's interface cord, and the ones inside him wiggled between two main wires, sending electricity arcing from the backup power conduit along his main line. The fingers on the Autobot's abdomen pressed inward, touching two terminals, and Sounwave felt the fresh energy surge through his system, transferred from his prisoner.

Prowl was frozen in place at sudden spike in energy levels. He made a choking sound, trying not to cry out, but ended up whimpering loudly anyway. Soundwave slipped past his defenses, and entered his mind.

The fingers playing with Prowl's circitry around the interface trembled slightly, heightening the sensation. Every sensor was alive and crackling with energy and sensations, and finally, the hand in-between the power conduit and circuitry inside jerked, sending another arc of electricity.

"oooh... ohhh." Prowl made no attempt to restrain his moan.

He gasped, And he fingertips inside him twitched, sending the black and white Datsun into sensory overload.

Prowl cried out, and Soundwave sent out a reverberating tone, too low for normal ears to hear, more than the vibration of it.

Soundwave forced his mind further into the Autobot's. Prowl convulsed, his entire frame engulfed in pleasure, and Soundwave purposely sent another bolt of energy across their link. It was too much, and Prowl cried out, whimpering, and shaking uncontrollably.

Soundwave calmly waited for a minute, until Prowl was only still trembling slightly,  
and the casseette player looked down at him, unforgiving and without mercy. He could _'feel' _Prowl's fear, and his hand sqeezed tighter around the power cable.

Prowl gasped for cooling air, against the pleasure of overcharge, and rising pain of the sensitive wire being squeezed and twisted, but Soundwave simply inserted his other hand, wrapping it around another set of wires. He sent another power surge across the link cable, and at the same time twisted both sets of wires. Prowl screamed in agony, and everything went blank.

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More up soon. Promise. :-) Reviews welcomed. More reviews quicker update. heh.

the coverart for the individual chapters (most of them) can be found at my deviantart page: http://aunyxx. 


	2. Rescue

**Chapter Two: Rescue**

**Rating:** PG13 for violence, swearing, implied slash, and a whole lot more picking on Prowl.  
Well... drabble, mostly. And drama. Reviews are appreciated.

**Pairing:** Jazz/Prowl, references to Prowl/Soundwave.

---------------------------

Starscream and his wingmates were sent flying (quite literally) by one blast from wheeljack's mega-cannon. Soundwave's cassettes scampered away inside, and hit their comms. "The Autobots have found us!" Rumble yelled. Megatron cursed, and looked over at Soundwave, who was standing over the motionless form of the Autobot 2CO. "Well?" he asked.

Soundwave simply replied "Inquiry failed. Information unretrievable."

Megatron snarled, and aimed his armcannon at the allready severely damaged Autobot.

"GRaaaah!" he fired off a blast, but it missed when he felt someone slam into his back.

Soundwave fired off a blast at whoever it was, and took off running down the hall, Ironhide firing after him. Megatron turned around right as Prime punched him. At the same time, Ironhide and Ratchet went around on the other side to get to Prowl.

Outside the temporary mountainbase, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were giving the seekers a hard time. Sideswipe used his rocket pack to launch himself into the air, and landed on top of Thundercracker, and Sunstreaker ramped off a pile of rocks, and landed on Starscream.

"Gyaah! get off me, Auto-brat!" the seeker screeched, not even realizing he was about to collide with his wingmate.

The Lamborgini brothers jumped ast the last second, before the two jets collided. Meanwhile, the minispies were giving some of the other Deceptcons heck. The Constructicons hid behind some rocks, looking around impatiently, hoping Megatron would call for a retreat before any of them ended up in the scrap pile.

Inside, Megatron tried to bring up his armcannon, but the room was too small, and before he knew it, Prime had knocked it away. Conceding defeat, the Decepticon leader turned and made a hasty retreat down the hall after where Soundwave had headed. Soundwave rounded a corner, and was clotheslined by a darkly-colored Decepticon. He looked up at the Stunticon. Since when had Breakdown gotten a recolor?

Before he could react, the con had him around the throat, and shoved him harshly up against the wall.

The hologram faded, revealing a very P.O.ed looking black and white porsche. "Where is he?" he snarled, never taking his eyes off the blue Decepticon communications officer.

"De-activated." Soundwave droned without emotion.

The black and white shoved him hardder against the wall, and Soundwave felt his neckplating starting to buckle underneath the stress.

"That wasn't what I wanted to hear." the saboteur growled, reaching for his gun.

Soundwave didn't even wince. He instead kicked away the autobot, and was promptly ran over by Megatron.

"SOUNDWAVE YOU IDIOT!" Megatron growled, picking himself up.

Jazz would have smirked, had he not been in such a bad mood. Yes, it was a rarity for anyone to ever see him this upset. But they had taken his bonded. Pruimus only knew if Prowl was still alive, even. Megatron continued his retreat, and the Jazz fired off a shot at Soundwave's head as he picked himself up. Soundwave was thrown back, and felt his neck cables protest as his head was jerked back. Peices of the shattered red visor that covered his face tinkled to the floor. Well, at least the Autobot had missed his neurocircuitry.

He looked up, and reached for his gun. another shot sent his gun flying, taking part of his hand with it. He should have realized if the autobots found them it would lead to something like this.

Jazz aimed at his head again. He wouldn't miss this time.

He took a step forward, ready to continue his little plan of revenge, till a voice down the hallway yelled "Jazz!" He glanced back at Soundwave, all semblance of the peacefull, fun-loving Autobot gone. Instead, it was replaced by sheer malice, hatred. A cold-sparked killer that was ready to do anything to avenge his bonded.

He glared, and fired off a final shot at the Decepticon's head before turning to walk towards the owner of the voice. Soundwave fell, visor shattered, smoke rising from his helmet. His last thought before blacking out was that he had simply been following orders, and that his day was really not going well.

----------------

Prowl heard the faint sound of voices as the darkness lightened slightly. He must be starting to wake up. Voices? He felt someone release his hands...

What was going to happen next, he wondered. His battle computer had since crashed, leaving him with no logic to go on, simply emotion and instinct.

He heard someone say his name in the darkness.

"..Prowl...Prowl..."

He strained to remember...Megatron... Soundwave... Oh Primus!

Someone was now trying to upright him. He twisted away and tried to curl up, bringing up his arms up to cover his face.

Ratchet was trying to see how much damage was done, and managed to get the shackles off, and tried to carefully upright the damaged tactician. His armor had been torn, windows shattered, chevron bent and twisted. His doorwings were ripped off, and what was left was sparking.

As soon as his hands were free, Prowl tried to twist away and curl up.

Ratchet gave Prime a worried look. Ironhide glanced down the hall, ready for any Decepticon stupid enough to come down the hallway while they were trying to rescue their friend.

"We have to get out of here before the Decepticons try to come back and finish him off."

Prowl didn't want to activate his optics. He was afraid of what he might see.

What if... what if they'd come back to finish him off. A small whimper escaped his vocaliser. His audios were fading in and out, only getting small snatches of the conversation going on around him. "Have to...Decepticons...finish him...Prowl?"

Siomeone grabbed his shoulder, and he blindly batted it away. Whoever it was was trying to get him upright.

No! he wouldn't let Soundwave do that again!

he tried to hit whoever it was away, and managed to swing blindly and puch whoever it was. "No! not again... please!" a half-whimper-half-sob sounded, and he tried to curl up tighter.

where were his friends? weren't they going to rescue him?"

Ratchet tried to grab him by the shoulder, being carefull of his damaged doorwings. Prowl suddenly started to swing at him, trying to fight him off. Ironhide headed down the hall to find out where Jazz had gone. He'd managed to infiltrate the base just prior to their attack, and find out where Prowl was being held. But now he'd dissapeared, and the red van guessed he had gone hunting for whoever had done this to his bonded. He turned a corner, and spotted the black and white at the other end off the hall. "Jazz!" he called.

The saboteur turned and gave him an icy look. Ironhide shivered involuntarily. He'd hate to be in soundwave's position right now.

He walked back to where Prime and Ratchet were, still trying to get Prowl to realise who they were. But he was still trying to curl up into a tight ball in the corner, doing everything in his power to fight off Ratchet every time he got close.

"I could just sedate him." Ratchet mused.

Prime glanced at him, then at Prowl with a deeply worried expression. "We don't know how badly damaged he is. If you do, it could effect his systems to dramatically."

Prime didn't want to say it, he'd seen it before. If a bot was too damaged, he knew the Decepticons, Soundwave especially, liked to rig their prisoner's systems so they couldn't go into stasis, which meant they were forced to stay awake through an interrgation. If Prowl was forced into stasis, he could go offline permanently.

The sound of light footsteps sounded, and The group glanced up. Jazz walked up, gun in one hand, and wearing a scowl. He stepped past Ironhide, and the gun dropped from his hand. ..."prowl..." It was barely a whisper, But Ratchet heard and glanced up. "We have to get him out of here. He's badly damaged."

The medic put a hand gently on Prowl's shoulder, making him whimper again, and try to curl up against the wall. a small spray of sparks came from his back when it scratched the wall. Jazz hurried up, and placed one hand firmly on Prowl's shoulder, ducking as he swung again, wrapping the other arm around the tactician as he turned, so he had him in a sort of halfway- hug. "Hey...hey."

Prowl was still panicking. "No, wait... I can't panic... have to think about this... panicking won't help anything. Have to try to think about this logically." he tried to access his logic computer, and was replied with a buzzing sound.

Someone (whoever it was previously, most likely) was trying to get him to turn around again. He swung out blindly, and tried to online his optics. All he could see was shadows for a second. He wasn't sure he was going to like seeing Soundwave, and/or Megatron again. He tried to swing at whoever had been stupid enough to unshackle him. He might not be able to run, but at least he was going to fight back!

Whoever it was reached around him, pulling him against him in a semi-hug sort of hold. He whimpered, knowing he couldn't take another physical assault like the last one.

"No!..." Prowl whispered, even though It sounded like a shout to him. He bit back a cough, and whispered "...please..." He tried to hold back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

Oh, Primus! he was gonig to die, he just knew it!

He couldn't help help it he was shaking. Waiting for whatever his captors were about to do next.

But instead of another phsical assault from soundwave, or torture from the Stunticons, a familiar voice whispered in his audio.

"Prowl...hey... hey." he managed to turn his head a couple inches.

It couldn't be! It had to be a trick! Soundwave had gotten into his head. He had to be making Prowl see this! It had to be an illusion! He tried to stop shaking, but the lack of energy and fear was making him shiver more.

He looked at the person, half-expecting to see Soundwave, or even Megatron. But instead, a dark helmet and blue-visored face came into view. "J-jazz?" he squeaked. The 'illusion' squeezed him tighter in a sorta-hug. "Hey, we hafta get 'chya outta here." he almost whispered back.

Now Prowl quinted at the other figures, and could barely make out Prime and two other people in the background. He still didn't believe it. It had to be a trick.

Prowl tried to concentrate on the link between them, but couldn't get anything. It had to be a trick. If it was Jazz, why couldn't he 'feel' his prescence? panic started to well up again inside him, and Prowl started to wiggle away.

"No... it has to be.. a trick!" he could feel tears forming.

Oh, first the physical torture, rape, and now Soundwave was mentally torturing him, too! Why?

Suddenly, an explosion sounded outside, and there was a shout, and he heard Megatron yell for a retreat.

Could it be?

could he be saved?

No. it couldn't be.

If this was really his bondmate, he'd be able to 'feel' his spark so close to his own.

Unless Soundwave did something to him?

or maybe he was still offline, and soundwave was still inside his processor, trying to get the information. Prowl was suddenly so confused.

Heavy footfalls sounded, and a hailstorm of weaponfire sounded. Prime and Ironhide fired back, running for cover. Ratchet ducked into the cell, firing around the corner. Motormaster ran and tackled Prime. Between punches, Motormaster looked up, and spotted Prowl. He smiled ferally, as though to say "once I'm done with Prime, I'm coming for you."

Prowl shrank back, squeaking. "...no..."

The other Stunticons appeared, and Ratchet managed to shoot Wyldrider and Dead End, before backing up to place himself physically between Prowl and the Decepticons. Ironhide and Prime managed to fight against motormaster, forcing him back towards the other stunticons, and Jazz let go of Prowl, intent on reaching his gun and shooting some Decepticons.

Prowl grabbed onto his arm tightly. "...don't.. leave me." Jazz looked back at him, utterly suprised, and Prowl looked up at him with wide optics. More shouts from the opposite end of the hall. and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's voices could be heard clearly. "Let's get 'em, bro!"

The Stunticons finally retreated, Lamborginis in hot persuit. Ratchet transformed into his vehicle mode, and Prime helped Jazz try to get Prowl on his feet. Prowl stumbled. He'd forgotten he couldn't stand, nevertheless walk. He just looked at Jazz like 'help me." who gave Prime a worried look.

Outside, Ironhide followed the lamborginis, making sure the Stunticons didn't give them any more trouble than they could handle. The Stunticons, of course, weren't stupid. They made a hasty retreat, heading for the hills in the general direction the other Decepticons had headed.

The Autobots cheered, and fired after them. When the last of the Decepticons had dissapeared over the hill, the battlefield went quiet. Where were Prime, Ratchet, and Jazz?

was Prowl allright?

were they too late?

whispers started to filter through the gathered crowd.

Then the vehicles appeared at the entrance. Ratchet sped past, and headed for home, Jazz right behind him.

Prime paused long enough to get the attention of the group. "Is Prowl allright?" someone called from the back. He wasn't sure who it was, but Prime simply replied. "He is still functional. Autobots, roll for home."

Another, louder cheer sounded from the assembled crowd, echoed by revving engines, and whoops of victory. The group took off towards the Ark. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe gunned their engines and roared around the front of the group, speeding down the road to catch up to Jazz and Ratchet.

The ambulance spotted them in his rearview before they even caught up to them. "Look, Prime allready told you guys he's still functioning, so don't bother asking a bunch of questions, okay?" he announced. "...But Ratchet, we were just concerned." the red lambo ducked down on his wheels slightly, as though insulted. Sunstreaker swerved up onto Ratchet's driver's side.

"Besides, we thought we'd come keep up with you in case any Decepticons get any smart ass ideas." he said decidedly, revving his engine.

Jazz sighed. "I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but I don't think they'll be comin back, okay?"

-------------

Inside, Prowl curled up a little. If this was just an illusion, there was nothing he could do to stop it right now. And there was no way to prove that it was reality.

At least no one was trying to hurt him, and no one was around to see his tears. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them, shaking.

He suddely wondered if everything should be fading to darkness again. He looked up, out the back windows of Ratchet's ambulance mode. He was quite literally scared to death, but the darkness was so warm and welcoming... peacefull...

He shook his head to stop it.

Eventually, it started to creep in on him again. The pain was startign to fade as the darkness wrapped itself around him. No noise, only comfort, warmth, like being wrapped in a big fluffy blanket.

He felt his limbs getting heavy. He finally laid down, completely exhausted, curling up, and let the darkness come wrap itself around him, bringing peacefull silence with it...

---------------------------------

Whew! okay, so that was a bit of drabble. (smacks self) But, anyways, I'm trying to get this where I want it to go. there'll be more, if I get some reviews. :-)

Sorry about any spelling errors, and mischaracterisations. I really suck at writing Prime, Ironhide, and Ratchet. (eyerolls)


	3. Repairs

Here's the third chapter. I'm going to try to get as many up tonight as I can, so I'm not going to beg for reviews. But I'd be happy if you would leave me one. XD

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**Chapter Three:** Repairs

The road home had been a long and bumpy one. Or, at least it seemed to take forever. Jazz kept casting his scanners over to his right to see if he could still detect Prowl's conciousness inside Ratchet's vehicle mode. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had since slid back to drive behind them. Ratchet sighed. "He'll be fine, if we can just get him back to base. The physical damage wasn't all that bad..."

Jazz replied with a growl of his powerfull engine revving, the eqivalent to an argumentive huff. The Porsche slid down a little lower on his tires depressedly. He gave his scanners a quick once-over of the ambulance and his cargo and sighed.

_"How could I have let him down like that? I was supposed to get in, rescue Prowl, and vamoose. But no, I had ta go 'an get caught. I was lucky enough ta' hide out in one 'a the unused rooms nearby an' call for help."_ he thought.

His mind wandered back to Soundwave's expression. He hated to admit it where any of the other Autobots could hear him, but it felt pretty damn good, being able to get revenge on soundwave. To give back even just a touch of what soundwave had done to his bondmate! Jazz didn't even realize he'd revved his engine again, letting his imagination wander into thoughts of what he would do when he caught soundwave alone again. Or any other one of the Decepticons, for that matter.

He 'glanced' (with his scanners) at Ratchet again as they finally reached the Ark. Ratchet headed off to the repairbay with Prowl, and Jazz followed. The medic and saboteur had gotten Prowl onto a repair table, and Sparkplug walked in. "Hey, Prime called. Said there was some kind of an emergency. He wouldn't say what..." he trailed off when he caught sight of Prowl and whistled. About the same time, Wheeljack walked in. Jazz suddenly felt someone geltly pushing him towards the door.

"Allright, you can leave now. We can handle this." Ratchet stated.

Jazz dug his heels in and turned around.

"Nuh-uh. I ain't leavin. He told me not ta leave him, and I aint." he stated flatly, folding his arms across his chest defiantly.

Ratchet folded his arms, also, as if saying "Oh yeah, well I can do that, too."

"I will call you as soon as he wakes up, but right now you're not doing any good for him, anyway." he stated.

Jazz still didn't move, but glanced over at the second-in-command, who Wheeljack was hovering over with auxillary power lines and a handheld scanner .

"Don't make me call Prime. I'll have you dragged out of here if I have to. You're not doing anything but getting in my way, and I have to go repair your bondmate so he can come back to the land of the living instead of the scrap pile." Ratchet gave Jazz a steady look.

"Look, I know you're worried about him, but being here isn't going to do anything, he's not even awake to know you're here." he added in a softer tone.

Jazz simply looked over at the unconcious prowl with a puppy-dog look, and quietly walked out, throwing another glance over his shoulder as he exited. Once the doors had closed, Ratchet snapped into motion, getting out his repair tools.

"Wheeljack, make sure the front door is locked. I don't want any worried Autobots to come rushing in here while I'm trying to reroute his power supply wires."

"Sure."

-------------

Outside the repairbay, Jazz debated on whether to sneak back in through Wheeljack's workshop, who's office, of sorts, was connected to Ratchet's office, which was connected to the repairbay. He glanced around the command room, and slipped silently out the door towards the outside entrance to Wheeljack's workshop...

As he walked outside along the side of the mountain, his mind wandered back to what had happened. He knew he shouldn't have walked away. Sure, it would have been hard to escape, but he was allways good at getting out of impossible situations, wasn't he? He should have tried to rescue Prowl, instead of waiting alnd call for backup. Or maybe call for backup, then try to rescue Prowl?

FLASHBACK:

_The 'stunticon' wandered down the halls, realising he was being followed._

_"Hey, you."_

_Starscream._

_Oh, this was just great._

_"Breakdown" turned around, pretending to look offended. "what?" he snapped, hoping his facade wouldn't give out. Now would not be a good time for his hologram emitter to stop functioning._

_"Just what are you doing here?" Starscream sneered, looming over the slightly shorter mech._

_The stunticon was about to reply when a piercing scream split the air._

_One that made his fuel lines run cold._

_He froze in place, as though the very sound had paralysed him._

_"That. was. Prowl." He thought._

_Starscream smirked. "Oh, looks like they've gotten somewhere after all. And here I thought Megatron was just going to come up with another failed plan." The seeker kept rambling about Megatron having some stupid scheme to get the Ark's security codes and how it would fail. all the while 'Breakdown' was listening, every word adding a little fuel to that fire of anger welling up. If only Starscream knew what was going to happen to him about ten seconds from now._

_The seeker suddenly noticed Breakdown was shaking. He lifted and optic ridge, stopping mid-sentence. "You never said what you were doing here in the first place." Starscream stated, chalky voice accusing._

_Another scream rang out._

_"No, I didn't, did I?" Breakdown replied icily. Starscream blinked._

_"Breakdown" hesitated. If Megatron, Starscream, and Soundwave were here in the temporary base, and given the area he'd have to cover to get out, and terrain outside he'd have to cover if he did rescue Prowl..._

_Starscream took a step towards him. If the seeker realised Jazz had infiltrated their temporary base, disguised as one of the stunticons, there'd be little chance of him even getting past Megatron to rescue Prowl, and he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to escape himself._

_"I'd better... go..." The Stunticon mumbled something about having some maintenance work to do, or a squeak in his shocks or something, and went in the opposite direction down the hall, Starscream glaring after him suspiciously._

_The disguised saboteur ducked into one of the small storage rooms and flipped on his radio. "If Soundwave's busy, he won't pick up on my signal." he thought._

_He mentally smacked himself for what he had just thought, but tried to shove it out of his processor for the time being._

_"Jazz to autobot headquarters." he whispered._

_"This is Prime, go ahead."_

_Something was wrong. Jazz could no longer feel the link between himself and Prowl. He had to get help here, and fast. He transmitted the coordinates, and the autobots sped out of the Ark towards where the Decepticons were hiding._

_Now, if he could only avoid Starscream untill they got here..._

PRESENT MOMENT:

Ratchet looked up at the scanner display over the recharge berth, not even noticing as Jazz slid his unlocked office door open and slipped quietly into the shadows in the corner of the repairbay. Wheeljack looked over at Ratchet worriedly as he turned on the last emergency energy transfer unit. He looked carefuly into Prowl's ripped-up chest. Soundwave had torn loose several important wires, including one that connected directly to his lasercore.

That wire was only hanging on by one of the several wires in the bundled cord.

He looked up at Ratchet. "Where do we start?" he questioned softly.

Ratchet glanced at the scanner readout. "We'll have to repair the worst of the damage first..." The scanner beeped, making the medic do a double-take.

"What's this?"

The scanner had been calibrated to go through the outer armor to show the wiring and circuitry, something like an X-ray would on a human.

Ratchet reached over and tapped a key, bringing up the view of the tactician's lower torso armor. He raised one optic ridge in interest.

Wheeljack was carefully trying to get the wire to Prowl's lasercore re-aligned, so he could secure it in place, and grabbed a fusing pen to secure it.

Ratchet scrutinised the scanner readout screen, and the two minute squares in Prowl's upper leg circuitry. He tapped the button on the control keyboard, zooming in a litte more.

'Those aren't part of his anatomy.' he thought. He glanced at Wheeljack, who was sealing the wire in place, then carefully leaned in, extending a small pair of tweezers from his fingertips. He placed one hand on the unconcious Prowl's waist for support, and carefully reached into the space between Prowl's upper leg and lower torso armor...

Wheeljack almost jumped when Prowl's optics clicked on, and Ratchet hissed curses in Cybertronian under his breath as the 2CO cried out and tried to twist away.

"No! No more!... Please!"

Wheeljack pressed his weight on Prowl's shouldrs to try to stop him from thrashing before he hurt himself, or ripped the wire Wheeljack had been working on completely loose.

Wheeljack looked down at him, headfins flashing a worried greenish as he spoke. "Prowl, calm down! you're safe now." he looked desperately over at Ratchet, over Prowl's semi-coherent cries.

"Jazz, Jazz!" Prowl's air intakes sped up to desperate gasps.

"He said he wouldn't leave me!"

Ratchet swore audibly. They had to find a way to calm him down.

Prowl struggled againsty Wheeljack's grip, and tried to sit up, looking around desperately.

"JAZZ!"

Prowl knew it was all just an illusion. Soundwave was using to get into his head, but it had seemed so real! his rescue, his bondmate being there. Prowl knew it was illogical, but was it too much to hope that hs bondmate had been there when he needed him the most?

"JAZZ WHERE ARE YOU!!!"

"I'm here."

Ratchet jumped at the sudden reply from directly behind him, and had to restrain himself from throwing the nearest object at the source of his startledness out of instinct.

"Jazz?...Jazz!... where are you?"

Prowl looked around desperately, but paused when he caught sight of the other black and white..

Jazz quickly made his way to Prowl's side, and clasped his bondmate's hand in both of his own.

Prowl calmed down slightly, but was still shaking quite a bit, his doorwings quivered, creating a soft 'tap-tap-tap' sound on the repair berth underneath him. His optics dimmed slightly.

"You're here... is this real?" he nearly squeaked, sounding like he was almost afraid to ask.

"Yeah, it's real." Jazz answered. His voice was a near-whisper, almost as though admitting it aloud would make the black and white wake up from whatever dream he was in.

Prowl glanced from Prowl to Ratchet to Wheeljack, and winced slightly as Ratchet pressed the hypo-injector to the side of his neckplating.

Jazz glared as much as his visor would allow. "What the hell was that.?" he asked flatly.

"It's just a mild sedative." Ratchet replied soothingly.

Prowl squeezed Jazz's hand.

"Don't leave me again!" he thought.

But he knew Jazz could no longer hear his thoughts.

Jazz just lowered his head over Prowl's so their helms touched.

He had heard, but couldn't reply.

He didn't know why, but something was blocking their link. And Jazz would have bet his lucky #4 it was Soundwave's doing.

Prowl's optics dimmed to an indigo shade. Jazz squeezed his hand again, and even though he was trying not to, his worry still showed in his voice, even though it was only a whisper. "I'm here for 'ya, baby. I promise."

A small smile wavered across Prowl's features, then he finally gave in to the drug, and fell into recharge...

Jazz gave Ratchet a glance. "So, I guess this means you're gonna let me stay after all?" he tried to give the CMO and easygoing smile.

Ratchet frowned back.

"You're just lucky you were here when he woke up. He's not going to again, unless he's repaired, though." the ambulance waited half a beat and looked at Wheeljack.

"He could have ripped the wire loose Wheeljack was working on and killed himself, Jazz. And your being here only made hs reaction stronger! He heard you and got more agitated." Ratchet explained, looking over at one of the repairbay's walls annoyedly.

He knew the saboteur was only trying to help, but right now, they had vital repairs to do. And they couldn't do it with a very worried bondmate hovering over them the entire time. Ratchet looked back at Jazz with a decided expression.

Okay, so Jazz's prescence here might have calmed Prowl down some. But it was still just as unnerving to see the normally unemotionally and logical tactician freaking out.

Ratchet sighed, and looked from Prowl to Jazz. "Look, we've got a lot more repairs to do. Why don't you go get some rest? he'll be asleep until morning anyway. There's nothing you could do to help anyway?" Ratchet tried.

Jazz folded his arms and gave the 2CO a determined look.

Ratchet pointed out: "I know you care about him, but you can't be here and be awake for him when he wakes up if you haven't had any recharge and are sleepy."

"I'm staying." Jazz stated.

Ratchet glowered. "I can call Prime." He stated.

The Porsche didn't budge. "go ahead." he replied.

Wheeljack came up and put a hand on Jazz's shoulder.

"Look. You might as well go get some rest. Prowl aint gonna wake up for at least four hours. Just go get some rest, kay? We'll let you know as soon as repairs are finished, and you can be here when he wakes up, fully recharged, and ready to welcome him back into the land of the living, okay?" His earpanels flached a pastel blue, indicating he was sincerely trying to help.

Jazz looked over at Prowl for a long minute, then sighed. 'I guess there's nothin' else I 'kin do for 'Im, is there?"

Wheeljack just placed a hand on his shoulder. 'like I said, we'll let you know."

Jazz nodded, and sollemly (and slowly) walked out, but not before casting one long, worried glance back at hisd bondmate. He didn't like being kicked out of the repairbay, but he knew if Ratchet had called Prime, he would have been banned from the repairbay longer than just four small hours. His shoulders sagged as he turned and walked out, heading for the commons room to get some energon.

----------

A/N: I didn't know how to add it in, but Ratchet did lock his office door, besides the repairbay doors after Jazz left

Also, I didn't know how else to kick him out, because it would have ended up with Prime being called, and I wasn't exactly sure how he would handle things...

more will be up soon.


	4. Recovery

**Rating:** PG13, references to violent non-con, torcher, and detailed physical intimacy/interfacing. 

**Summary:** Drama ensues as Prowl tries to reboot his life.

**Pairing:** Jazz/Prowl, references to Prowl/Soundwave.

**A/N:** Okay. This really didn't come out like I had it written on paper, but I now have Ratchet in my headspace, and he just wouldn't shut up. heh. So when I started typing, he and Wheeljack kinda took over and decided to write half the chapter from their point of view. The part about Jazz (after that) was written by LStarrunner. Thank you SOOOO much! gives her cookies and stuff :-D

**Chapter Four:** Recovery

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Ratchet sat down heavily in his office chair and rubbed his optics wearily, one of the habits he'd picked up from Sparkplug and Spike. The door to Wheeljack's workshop, opposite the one to the repairbay slid open. Ratchet tiredly took a sip of energon and glanced up. "So, how'd it go with the car-part company?" Ratchet could allready tell from his expression it didn't go so well. Sure, they could have built new doorwings for Prowl, but it would be easier just get a pair and modify them, adding the circuitry and sensors needed.

"Well." Wheeljack pulled out a chair across from the medic and sat down. "The guys at the repairshop said they'd be happy to help." he started with a shrug. "But, the Datsun is a foreign car, and they don't normally carry parts for foreign cars. But they said they could order them. And because of the way Prowl transforms, the doors have to swivel out and up slightly, or something like that. Which is what humans refer to as 'suicide doors'.

Ratchet rubbed one hand over his face. "and?" he asked flatly, as though saying "get to the point.  
"Well..." Wheeljack looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. "They said they'd have to be custom made, and although they said they'd be happy to help us out, for saving the world and everything.." he paused again, earning him a glare from the CMO.

"He said they'd still have to charge us for it." he mumbled. Ratchet threw his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. "Oh For The **LOVE OF PRIMUS!** Do these people not understand that we are out there risking our lives on a daily basis, and Prowl was injured answering a HUMAN distress call to begin with!? And of _course_ we could build new doorwings ourselves, but we were trying to get some of the work done faster so our TACTICAL EXPERT could get repaired and **BACK TO HIS JOB!"** Ratchet glared at the wall behind Wheeljack.

"I did check some other places." Wheeljack added in a softer tone. "But they said the same thing." he looked up.

"That's okay, Wheeljack. You did fine. We'll just have to build them ourselves, I guess." Ratchet grumped and took another gulp of his energon. "I mean, we would have had to alter them anyway to get the sensor net right. We might as well. It's not like we can go to a junkyard and get parts for our warriors."

"Yeah." Wheeljack glanced at the closed door to the repairbay. Ratchet smirked as the mental image of rusty old chevy doors on Sunstreaker, and Wheeljack holding up and old falling-apart hood with the lining falling out. _"But if we paint it, it'll look brand new!"_ He shook the thought out. _"I must be getting tired. I'm starting to daydream."_ he thought wryly.  
_"About Sunstreaker, none the less."_ he added. He glanced at the clock on the corner of his desk. Five minutes till midnight. He'd spent the last nine and a half hours working on various damages to Prowl's system. And trying to keep the 2CO from freaking out every time he nearly woke up. He sighed again. "So, what did you tell them?" he asked, hoping Wheeljack hadn't allready told the car-part and repair place yes.

The Lancia shrugged. "I told them I'd have to run it past you and Prime first."

Ratchet nodded. "We should get to work, then." he stood up and finished off his cube, tossing it to the trash can, which missed and bounced off the wall. Ratchet grumbled and bent to pick it up, swaying and nearly falling.

"Maybe you should get some rest first." Wheeljack suggested gently.

Ratchet uprighted himself and looked at him. "I'll be fine. I just got some energon so I'll be fine for the next four hours. We should finish getting Prowl repaired." He stated.

Wheeljack didn't really want to argue with him. Ratchet was allready grumpy enough as was, and grumpier when he got tired, but he needed his rest "Prowl can live without his doorwings for a while." he half-chuckled. "Come on. I'll get started on 'em, and you can grab a few minutes of rest, then come help me, okay?" Ratchet muttered something under his breath, but sat back down. "Fine." He gave Wheeljack a half-glaring flat look. "But if I fall asleep, you had better come wake me up." he glared. Wheeljack nodded. "Okay. See you in a few." and dissapeared into his workshop. Ratchet sat down at his desk and rested his chin in his hands. He shouldn't be resting, he should be helping wheeljack with those doorwings. But he _was_ kind of tired...

Where did that yawn just come from?

...okay, maybe just five minutes.

the medic's optics dimmed, and he folded his arms, resting his head on them.

just five minutes...

zzzzzzzzzz...

-------------------

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Ark, Jazz fumed.

Banished from the repair bay and unable to feel his bond to Prowl, he sulked. Their room felt empty, too quiet, too wanting for Prowl's steady presence. So he headed to the commons room, hoping a bit of high-grade might settle his processor. Even the halls were quite. His steps seemed to echo off the Ark's walls, making them feel more empty then ever before.

He passed a couple mechs on his way, and they waved cheerfully, said hello, asked how Prowl was. Jazz just shrugged and said Ratchet had kicked him out of the repairbay. He sighed as Inferno and Trailbreaker walked away, wishing he wouldn't have to talk to anyone else. He hioped the commons room was empty.

No such luck. The common room was still full of 'Bots from the battle, celebrating Prowl's rescue and yet another Decepticon retreat. Sideswipe descended upon him as soon as he darkened the door, jovially taking his arm and clapping him on the back. "You got Prowl back!" he said, too loudly for Jazz's comfort. Sideswipe led him to where Sunstreaker waited. "Sit, sit - I'll fetch you some energon."

" 'Hide said you gave Soundwave what he had coming to him," Sunstreaker said with a malicious smile as he slid aside to make a spot for Jazz. "Said you left his shell smoking on the floor."

Jazz pulled his lip components into a semblance of a tight smile and sat down slowly on the indicated bench. If he couldn't see Prowl and couldn't recharge, maybe he could plan his revenge on the Decepticons. The Twins were brawlers, but smart enough to maybe help him. "I'd like ta leave 'im in pieces, Sunny."

"Just say how many, Jazz," Sunstreaker encouraged him.

He sat with the Lamborghinis in the common room until almost everyone else had left. They came up with several plausible ways to 'do in' the Decepticon communications officer, and more that were pure fantasy. Sideswipe played host, being the one nearest the dispenser, and kept them supplied with energon.

Getting on toward morning, there was a pause in their conversation when Sideswipe got up to get them one more round. Jazz stared down at the table as if he were watching a scene play out on it like a movie screen, and he got around to what was really in his CPU. "Did ya know they ripped Prowl's doors off, Sunny?" He didn't pause to wait for an answer. "His bumper? And his grill?" Faceplates grim, he couldn't spare energy for expression. He registered that he got louder with each item listed, but he had no reason to care. Jazz looked up at Sunstreaker but was obviously still focused on a scene past. "His optics were so fragged I don' think 'e knew me." The few remaining mechs in the room finally left. Sideswipe hurried back.

"Prowl's never been desperate before, Sunny. I ... didn't know he could be."

Sideswipe slid into his seat across from Jazz and Sunstreaker. Jazz turned his gaze to Sideswipe as his friend slid another container of high-grade across the table. Jazz stiffly set his hand around the cube but kept talking, now to Sideswipe.

"Half his armor's gone, Sides. We didn' have time to search for it, but it wasn' in the cell with 'Im. His chevron was nearly twisted o-off, an' it looked like they played rugby with his helm." He paused, looking down at the energon before him. The room was so quiet now he could hear his own fuel pump. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper, "Millions o' years I've known 'im," he said to no one in particular, imagining what must have been done to his bonded, playing out on the surface of the liquid, "an' he's never pled with anyone." He took a long draw on his energon. "He begged me not ta leave 'Im, but, here I sit. An' I can't feel 'im. Can't feel 'im."

Both brothers were speechless in that moment, having never seen Jazz without a smile let alone in such a maudlin state. Even the grim look he wore while contemplating Soundwave's demise hadn't bothered them - the smile of vengeance - but this, this lack of expression was unnerving. Neither one knew what to do for their friend.

Sunstreaker spoke up. "If we're to carry out any of our plans for Soundwave tomorrow, we need to get some recharge today."

Jazz looked up, seeming confused. Sideswipe took his brother's cue. "Yeah, Sunny's right, Jazz - can't kick 'Con aft on nothin' but high-grade and wishes." The Lamborghinis stood up and looked down at Jazz who was no longer paying attention to them. Sunstreaker took his right arm and Sideswipe his left and gently maneuvered him around the table and out of the common room.

_"Why can't I feel 'im?"_ cycled through his CPU over and over. Someone had a hold of his right arm and was pulling him up from the bench. Jazz didn't care. _"Why can't I feel 'im?"_

A voice that sounded familiar but didn't belong that close to his audio answered him. "I dunno know, Jazz. Ask Ratchet when he's got Prowl back together."

That voice was in his left audio. How come there's a voice on my left shoulder and hands on my right arm? he thought, then registered there were hands on his left arm, too. "Never seen a four-armed 'Bot before, but why not?"

"He's cratered," said another voice, in his right audio, a deeper one that he knew belonged with the first one. "Probably doesn't remember his own name right now, let alone his access code."

_"Do too!"_ he thought, _"I'm Jazz. An' Prowl set our access code. Prowl? Where are ya, love?"_

"I'll use the override," said the voice in his left audio.

The sound of the security system accepting an entry code soothed him a little. _"Prowl must be mad at me, if I hafta use an override to lemme in. Wha'd I do ta Prowl? Why's he mad at me?"_ Jazz thought desperately, barely able to hold a thought in his processor, he was so exhausted. Then he registered that there were people with him in the doorway. He hadn't entered the code, one of them had. "Hey! Sunny? Sides? Where's Prowl? Why can't I feel Prowl?"

"Ah, he knows us again!" Sunstreaker said to his brother over Jazz's bowed head.

"Yeah," and "Welcome back, Jazz!" said Sideswipe as he backed into the quarters Jazz and Prowl shared. The door may have been large enough for two average-sized mechs abreast, but not three.

"Prowl's in medical, Jazz, Ratchet's taking care of him," Sunstreaker reminded Jazz and considered whether he wanted to share what he knew about shared sparks. The longer Jazz talked tonight the more certain Sunny'd become that he knew precisely what Jazz was going through.

Sideswipe beat him to it as they guided Jazz to his recharge plate. "Ya can't feel Prowl in yer spark 'cause he's drawn so far into himself to try to get away from something, that he's not present at that level anymore."

"N-Not present?" Jazz slurred, struggling to remain upright.

"Mmm-hmm," Sideswipe replied, letting go of Jazz's arm and crouching to grasp his ankles.

Sunstreaker moved to rotate Jazz's shoulders and force him back on the berth. "Happens to Sides and me more than I like to think about. He's a pain in my aft when he's around," Sunny paused to watch his brother trying to get Jazz the rest of the way on the recharge plate. "Jazz, cooperate!" Sideswipe made a face at him but Jazz stopped fighting them. "That's better. He's a pain in my aft when he's around, and a pain in my spark when he's not." The brothers turned to leave.

Jazz sat halfway up on the berth. "Wait! How do I get 'im back?"

Before he triggered the door to close, Sunstreaker answered, "Wait."

As the door cycled, Sideswipe shoved at his twin and added, "Think about him, love him, welcome him back." The door slid into place.

"Primus, I hope nobody heard that drivel from you!" Sunstreaker complained as they walked away.

"It's true, though," Sideswipe draped one arm over his brother's shoulders, "that's all he can do to keep from goin' crazy with worry."

"Get off me, bro', before you scratch my finish."

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Aaaaand, more thanks to LStarrunner for writing the scene with Jazz and the twins. (Thank you, thank you!) I would probably have meandered all over the place and never gotten there if she hadn't have written this part. More soon, including more by LStar!


	5. Remembering

**Chapter Five:** Remembering

**Rating:** R. Totally R. very Explicit plug 'n play. that's all I'm saying. 

**Pairing:** Jazz/Prowl

**Summary:** Jazz misses Prowl, and has trouble getting to sleep. But not for long...

**A/N:** Prowl's P.O.V. on this is coming up next. I did do a little re-writing on it. Sorry, lstar, the plotbunnies ran away with me again. XD.

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Alone in their room - Prowl's room - Jazz lay back down on the berth. Realizing he was on Prowl's side, he almost slid over where he 'belonged', but then what Sideswipe said suddenly made sense to him, and he stayed where he was. "The last time I was on his side of the berth-:" he had to take his visor off to wipe his eyes. "Did the Twins know I was cryin' half the night?" He set the visor gently on the floor and called up the memory. "The last time I was on his side of the berth", he shuddered, "he was late for a meetin' with Prime."

**Flashback:**

Jazz woke to the sensation of empty air beside him, where his lover usually was. He rolled over and found Prowl sitting at his computer typing, several hours earlier than usual.  
"whatcha doin' this early in the mornin', love?" Jazz asked.

"I have a meeting with prime to go over the plans for your next surveillance of the nemesis and I want to make sure they are perfect." Prowl's doorwings were drawn up in apprehension. He didn't want his bondmate to get caught while sneaking around inside the Decepticon command ship. Not that he would say that out loud though.

"ya know they're good, Prowl, c'mon back to me, now," Jazz said, calling up as much love and want in his spark as he could, knowing that Prowl would feel it from him.

"I have to do this, Jazz, to be sure you have the highest possible probability of success," Prowl protested, but Jazz heard the slight tremor in his vocalization. That meant he was affected by Jazz's effort.

he got up off the recharge plate. "what's my probability of success, love? 90 percent?" and walked as gracefully as he was able toward Prowl, concentrating on what he wanted to do when he got there.

Prowl stoically faced the monitor but Jazz could tell he had Prowl's full attention. "94.6 percent. but I think I can find a way to get it up to 96 percent..."

Jazz pressed up against Prowl's back from behind, and leaned down to whisper in his audio, "I want you more than that 1.4 percent," as he kissed around the side of Prowls neck, and up around the tactician's jawline. Jazz gently ran his fingers around the edges of his mate's door-wings, from the lowest point on his back out to the edge, up along the seal, pausing to fondle the latches, and on around to the top edge back to where they attached to Prowl's back.

Prowl shuddered and tried to focus on the plan. Jazz continued to caress his back and doors, and focused all the energy he could on the part of his spark that was Prowl's. "I love knowin' there's a little part o' you in me, all the time," he purred, "but I want ta' feel the rest o' you." he grinned, knowing he was winning. He could feel the desire building in his mate. He rested his hands on Prowl's shoulders and kissed the top of his helm, careful of the chevron. then he had an idea: he cautiously touched the back of Prowl's chevron with his glossa. he licked along first one half of the chevron, then the other.

That was the last straw! Prowl stood up, forcing Jazz to stop attending to his chevron. Jazz backed a step to get out of the way of the door-wings, sensing Prowl was about to turn around - ah, the practicality of the bond to keep them from doing damage to each other! - and waited.

As he turned to face Jazz, Prowl rumbled low, "the rest of me?" and caught Jazz around the waist, pulling their bodies tightly together. now in his mate's audio, Prowl growled, "you want the rest of me?" glossa tracing the edge where black met white, Prowl's hands caressed Jazz's midsection, fingers gently slipping into the space between armor plates, brushing cables and stimulating sensors.

Jazz felt Prowl's fields flare against his own, and opened the access panel at his waist. Prowl chuckled a little and kissed him. "Not just yet." He whispered. his fingers expertly stroked the now-exposed circuits, sending tiny thrills of electricity through him, and delicately sought the connector inside. Jazz gasped softly, wanting more. One hand traced down Prowl's hood, past a headlight, down around his bumper to slide into the space under it, and touch the delicate wires beneath; the other brushing against the coverplate of Prowl's interface port cover.

Prowl moaned softly, and entwined his glossa with Jazz's. Jazz kissed him deeper, and Prowl slid the coverplate aside. One darkly-colored hand slid deeper inside, brushing a wire behind Prowl's right headlight, sending a stronger tendril of energy across his chest. The other hand found the open interface and traced the edges, then crossed over two circuits, making Prowl gasp into his lover's mouth. Prowl had to struggle to keep his legs from giving out under him as a strong surge of pleasure washed over him.

the Datsun turned them as one and started them moving slowly toward the berth. one hand on Jazz's back, maintaining the contact of their bodies, and the kisses increased to a fervor.

Jazz purposely extended his energy field toward Prowl, knowing what kind of effect it would have on him. His fingers slid around the connector, and the plug unlatched itself. He smirked around the kisses, knowing that was what his mate wanted. Prowl's hand around Jazz's waist slipped, sending his fingertips skirting across a seam. Jazz made a soft noise, like "do it again." Prowl obliged, and his fingertips searched out Jazz's connector plug, too. They had never done a double-hookup like this before, it was usually one mech 'plugging in' to the other. But Jazz was all for it, and guided Prowl's hand to connect to him first.

"Uh-uuuh." Jazz panted, feeling the energy that had seemed so strong doubling now, coming like crashing waves, and when his legs hit the edge of their berth, he broke their kiss, losing their balance.

Prowl smirked as Jazz fell under him. "So you want to feel me, do you?" he asked, voice low and teasing. Prowl's optics were dimmed to a deep blue, and he sent a wave of pleasure across their link. Jazz shuddered from underneath him, and caught himself before he could cry out.

Prowl leaned down, so their faces were inches apart. "I want to hear you scream my name."

Jazz tilted his head back and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, Prowl's hand slid inside the armor plating, hitting a sensitive wire, and Jazz moaned. He looked up to find Prowl kissing his way down his hood, down his chest, midsection, and Jazz gasped out loud as Prowl's glossa flicked around the edges of his open interface. Jazz arched his back. "U-uuh.. Prowl!"

"I can't hear you." The thin appendage circled the connected interface, pressing, teasing. Jazz moaned louder, panting. "O-ooohhhh! Prowl!" A chuckle was heard, and Prowl's hand inside Jazz's chest bridged two wires, sending a thrill of electricity. Prowl looked up around his pointed chevron, the light giving him an almost wicked look. He ran his glossa around the end of Jazz's interface plug, making the saboteur squirm in ecstacy.

"Stop-- uh--- playing!" he pleaded.

The rest of the sentence came out in a drawn out moan. Prowl sucked the connector into his mouth, still teasing the tip of it with his glossa. Jazz squirmed harder, and arched his back, gasing for breath, He jerked his head from one side to the other, almost hitting overload right then.

"PROWL! OOOOOHHHHHH!"

he whimpered loudly, and Prowl relented, sliding back up to lie face to face with Jazz, and brought their bodies back into contact, giving him a sensual kiss. Jazz started to reach for his chest, but Prowl caught his mate's hand. He kissed Jazz again, hard enough to press his head back onto the hard metal of the recharge berth under him, and clicked the connector into place. Jazz whimpered, and Prowl took the opportunity to slide his glossa between parted lips, soaking up what was left of the moan.

As their consciousness merged, Prowl sent a small surge of energy over the link. Not enough to send them into overload. Not just yet. Jazz replied by sending several tendrils of needle-like static electricity over the cable, like liquid lightning, silently begging for more. For Prowl to take him over, and become one with his spark again.

Electricity crackled around them, and pleasure ran through both bodies. It felt as though they could feel everything, every single air current made by the ventilation ductwork, the temperature, every circuit was singing with sensativity, begging to be brought into the fire-and-ice ecstacy of overload.

"Are you ready?" Jazz said anxiously, trying to use his most sensuous tone, perfectly aware of the effect the sound of his voice had on his mate. He panted, trying to cool his overworked circuits, and build up a surge of energy that would send them both careening into overload, and open both spark-chambers just enough to allow them to touch again.

Prowl trembled deliciously against him. _"you know I am",_ he said inside Jazz's processor, not bothering to use his vocalizer. _"let me take your visor off"_

"anything you ever want, love," Jazz purred and waited as Prowl slowly brought his hands up to remove the protective article.

_"I love you, love to see your face, your optics when we're together like this..."_ Prowl only made run-on sentences when he was close to overcharge. he caressed Jazz's face, looking deeply into his optics.

Jazz drew Prowl's mouth back down to his. _"I love you, too"_ he said, inside Prowl's processor. An eternal moment later, they were elbow-deep in each other again, each teasing circuits, parting wires, and finally caressing the other's spark chamber.

Prowl took a deep breath and let the electricity that had been building up inside him go. Jazz knew it and sent his own surge of energy across their physical link and hungrily swallowed Prowl's cry of pleasure. Their energy fields, minds and sparks merged, and the overload hit.

Both of them shuddered violently, so consumed in the flood of energy they thought their vocalisers had stopped working, and couldn't make a sound. It was more than either had felt before, going both ways through the double-link.

Finally, both cried out loudly, their voices intertwined in a chorus of pure pleasure.

Bright blue lightning crossed their link, Liquid ice and fire, then darkness.

the room came back into focus for a second, and then faded to darkness as they fell offline.

It seemed as though instead of two bodies with two sparks, (Jazz and Prowl), there were two forms now, but only a single spark between them. A single unified entity...

Field flaring as if Prowl were there with him again, Jazz slipped into a peaceful recharge.


	6. Nightmare in Black White & Grey

**Nightmare in Black White and Grey**

**Rating:** R. Totally R. Non-Con/Cross-Faction/Bondage/Plug N Play

**Pairing:** Megatron/Prowl

**Time Frame:** G1

**Summary:** Prowl is having a nightmare. Nuff said.

**A/N:** Yes, you probably allready know I pick on Jazz and Prowl both quite liberally. This was originally written for a fanfic contest. I decided to add it into the fanfic. :-)

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The only light in the small cell was the energy bars off to one side. There was a soft scrape of metal and a whimper. Megatron watched his prisoner from the outside of the bars, and a malicious smile crept around the grey Decepticon Leader's lip-components. Megatron lifted a charcoal hand and flicked off the energy bars. Prowl's head snapped up, realising he was no longer alone. Dimly-lit cracked blue optics met red ones for a moment, and Prowl looked away. He shifted slightly where he was half-sitting, half-kneeling, trying to move, but knowing his legs no longer worked. Soundwave had made sure of that.

Prowl tried to force away a tendril of apprehension that sprang to the surface and leaned to the left, wincing when his sparking back and open circuits where his doorwings once were scraped the wall behind him. He knew his rescue had only been an illusion. and now there was no hope left to be had. He was so low on energy he could barely move, and his battle computer had since crashed, maybe permanently, leaving him without logic, only emotion and instinct to rely on.

Megatron waited for the bars to click back on behind him before continuing his approach. At least he'd be able to take out some of his aggrivation on someone today. Starscream had allready ticked him off earlier, Hook and the other constructicons were muttering uncomplimentary things under their breath and denied it afterwards, and Starscream had dissapeared to escape Megatron's wrath. Prowl looked over at the bars, a spark of hope appearing as the bars clicked off, then it died when they came back on. Not that he could run anywhere. But if he could drag himself somewhere...

Megatron grinned maliciously, remembering the day before, how he had watched Soundwave almost bring the Autobot to tears. He looked forward to hearing the Autobots' second in command screaming, begging for mercy.

He wasn't dissapointed.

"Please, Megatron..." it was barely a whisper

"No more.."

Scrape.

A soft keening sound met Megatron's audios.

How pathetic.

Normally Megatron wouldn't get involved in interregations, and simply 'oversee' Soundwave's work. But how delicious it sounded when the Autobot cried out! his voice was such a wonderful mixture of pleasure and plain. Megatron smirked.

Prowl tried to move away, but Megatron reached out and grabbed him around the throat, smothering Prowl's mouth with his own in a crushing kiss. And shoved him back against the wall hard enough to produce another sporadic shower of sparks from the Datsun's back. Prowl moaned despairangingly, encouraging Megatron, who swallowed the sound, invading the Autobot's mouth with his glossa. Prowl whimpered and tried to turn his head, but Megatron still had a vice-like grip on his jaw, and forced him to keep his head straight, and stare Megatron right in the face. Megatron kissed deeper, glossa exploring the inside of Prowl's mouth, getting a strangled sound somewhere between a whine and a whimper.

Why did this Autobot taste so good? Megatron noted how Decepticons allways tasted like stale oil and half-processed energon. But this Autobot was full of life, energy, ...something; And Megatron wanted more.

Megatron chuckled as Prowl moaned again and tried to twist away. The grey Decepticon leader's fingers brushed the black and white's midsection, making Prowl tense. He had requested that Soundwave remove the interface cover panel, and Soundwave had simply ripped it off it's hinges, leaving the circuitry exposed. Megatron brushed his fingertips over the open circuits, looking for something.

Ah, there it was.

The thin interface cord hanging down loosely between the tactician's thighs. Megatron reached down, his fingertips brushing the inside of Prowl's legs, leaving tiny tendrils of electricity in their wake. His fingers closed around the plug, and Prowl gasped into his mouth. Megatron rolled the plug loosely between his fingers, knowing it would get a reaction.

Prowl tried to jerk away again, and tried to plead with him around the invading appendage, but it came out as a moan. He shuddered, wishing it would all just be over, that the assault would end, and the Decepticons would just leave him alone.

Unfortunately, Megatron was far from done with him.

He kept hold of the plug at the end, and slowly wrapped the wire around his hand, squeezing, massaging, sending thrills of pleasure through Prowl. The Datsun tried to struggle, but he could barely move. Megatron kept wrapping the thin wire till he was right at the circuitry. He brushed his fingers over the circuits around where the interface cable met the circuitboard, and Prowl moaned aloud.

Megatron finally let go of his jaw, and Prowl looked away, narrowing his optics and settling his sight on the wall, glaring and refusing to meet the Decepticon's stare. He hated this. His sworn enemy, the leader of the Decepticons, making him whimper and moan like a little femmebot. Prowl hated himself for letting himself be captured, and letting Megatron do this to him.

Megatron grabbed him and delivered another kiss. The grey Decepticon stroked the open circuits one more time, and yanked.

Hard.

Prowl screamed as the cord was ripped free of the housing, and thrashed wildly, throwing sparks. Megatron put his weight on him to keep him from moving, and soaked up every sound. Finally, when Prowl had stopped trying to get away, he broke the kiss. Prowl shivered violently, trying to hold back tears, if not out of despair, then most certainly ouf of pain, he told himself. He took a shuddering breath, knowing all hope was gone, and telling himself it was justified now.

Emotion took over, and Megatron smiled trimphantly. "You won't be needing that, anyway. _Nobody_ plugs in to _me_." Prowl's optics met Megatron's, realizing just what he meant by that. Cold dread started to creep into his circuits.

He glanced down. Megatron had his interface panel open, and was stroking the thick interface plug hanging loose, optics dimmed to a dark ruby color. "Then again, you might enjoy it." Megatron growled softly, and jammed the plug into the connector. Prowl gasped and tried to bite back a cry, but failed. Megatron's energy thrummed through the connector, mingling with the almost overwhelming pain, and Prowl felt Megatron's power field arrowing into him.

"...noo..." Prowl whimpered loudly, and lost his voice. The pain and electricity was too much. He could feel his internal temperature rising. His energy being sucked away, overshadowed by Megatron's powerfull field.

Megatron growled low, feeling Prowl's icy field around his own. "yes. I want to feel more." Megatron commanded. Prowl squirmed helplessly underneath him as the silver Decepticon forced his way into Prowl's body. His dark hands worked their way up under Prowl's bumper and underneath his armor.

"No! Stop! Aaugh!" Prowl squirmed, shutting off his optics. Damnit! why couldn't Megatron just shoot him and be done with it!?

"Stop fighting me." Megatron breathed, fingers snaking into wires and circuits. "Hu-uuung.." Prowl gasped for breath, rasping air intakes speeding up, but it did him no good. Megatron knew exactly where he would find what he wanted. His fingers angled upward, the other hand downward. One hand aiming for those sensitive internal power conduits and interface wiring, and the other towards his spark chamber. Prowl jerked and slid over sideways, sending both of them to the floor. Megatron simply maneuvered so he was straddling Prowl, and shoved his hand further into the black and white's chest wiring, purposely forcing wires apart.

Megatron leaned in. "I want you to beg." He purred. "Beg for mercy. Or death." His fingers circled the outside of Prowl's spark chamber, and Prowl tried his hardest not to scream. Megatron's other hand slinked lower inside his body. "Come on, say it." Megatron coaxed.

"Unnggh...never."

Prowl squeaked and Megatron's fingers slid into the wires under Prowl's spark chamber. The other slid around more wires, brushing, teasing. Prowl felt the surges of power increasing, and gasped harder, feeling like his internals would melt any second at the head coursing through them. Megatron pressed his fingers into the circuits, and slid his other hand around the main power cord to Prowl's spark. Prowl shuddered and moaned, arching into Megatron, sending another thrill of electricity across their link. Megatron replied with a crushing kiss and a powerfull surge of energy. His hand squeezed the cables and twisted. Prowl cried out at the sudden combination of pleasure and pain, his world exploding into a cacaphony of pleasure, pain, light, and darkness.  
Megatron threw his head back and _roared_.

Everything faded to black.

again.

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I know, this is getting old. I'm trying to work out more 'method' on plug 'n play, and different techniques, but I don't think I'm getting very far with it, am I? also, there's a scene in 'Friendly' Persuasion where Prowl is having a nightmare. The scene doesn't explain what goes on in his nightmare, but goes on to another friendlier dream (after that) instead. I know it sounds confusing, but when I get the next chapter posted, you'll understand.


	7. Dream

**Chapter 7:** Dream (AKA Prowl's version of Jazz's dream) 

Prowl was having a horrific nightmare. His doors had been torn off and half his armor was missing.

He could feel little spikes of electricity flash through his body where wires were exposed or torn.

He needed to run away, but his legs wouldn't work.

So he was forced to drag himself across the desert he was somehow in.

If his battle computer had been up and running, it would have been protesting, asking how he got here, and how did he get out of the Nemesis? But it wasn't. And Prowl didn't care, so long as he got away. He glanced over his shoulder, presumably at the direction he'd come from, and continued trying to drag himself towards the Ark. "Surely the Autobots would have sent out a search party, right?" He asked himself.

_"No. They don't care... they think you're dead... There's no way you can escape.."_

The voice that answered him was barely a whisper, but he knew who it was. Soundwave had gotten in his head, and probably knew exactly where he was. Soundwave was chasing him, he knew it somehow. He stifled a whimper, trying to keep his fear at bay, and kept pulling himself along, refusing to give up.

It seemed like he'd been dragging himself for miles in the dust. He felt like he was never going to get anywhere. He had no radio, his vocaliser felt like it had been broken, and every time he tried to call out, he could feel it give a little more. "Anyone!" he'd try just one more time. "Anyone! Prime! Ratchet! ANYONE!" He coughed, trying not to agitate the damaged cicuits anymore. A cold wind picked up the dust behind him, and swept it forward. A cold shadow started to creep across the Desert. Prowl gulped and looked up. No, not stormclouds. He gulped and resisted the urge to look behind him. He shivered as he felt the tendrils of Soundwave's mind creeping towards him.

"No... Help!" he knew if there was anyone else who could hear him, they would have come and rescued him by now. He suddenly mustered up his nerve, and turned to face his captor. Nothing. The empty expanse of the Oregon desert met his gaze. The winds died down, leaving the orange sun-baked landscape just as it was before. Prowl narrowed his damaged optics and willed himself forward. The sun's heat increased.

He forced himself to move, wishing the heat would go away.

The further he went, the more it seemed to increase, until he thought we was about to overheat.

He finally stopped, panting for air to cool his systems. "Anyone? Can you hear me?"

He tried to go a few more feet, but the last of his energy seemed to fade with every movement.

He finally gave up and lay on his stomach in the dust, crying.

"Damnit... Jazz... if you're still in there somewhere..." He curled up slightly, hoping this nightmare would somehow end.

"Please..." He coughed again, then tensed. The shadow had come back.

And this time, he could _hear_ the footsteps approaching. He didn't look up. He was so tired.

Tired of fighting. He shuddered, letting the bluish droplets of fluid fall where they may, only to dissapear into the dry dirt.

"Hey." a voice whispered, barely hearable.

"Hey." It was slightly louder.

Was Soundwave messing with him again? Just getting inside his head?

Someone had taken a hold of him, and was hauling him upright. Sitting up, he took a deep 'breath' and looked at whoever it was.

Miraculously, it was Jazz. Not Soundwave. Not Megatron.

_Jazz_ was supporting him, arms around his midsection, cautiously avoiding contact with the sparking stubs of his door-wings. "I love knowin' there's a little part o' you in me, all the time," Jazz purred at him, "And there'll allways be a lil' part 'o me in you, too. No matter what happens."

Prowl blinked "How... how did you..."

"How'd I hear you?" Jazz tilted his visored head to one side slightly, as though in thought. "Like I said, I'll allways be here." he tapped on the undamaged part of Prowl's chestplate softly, where his spark chamber lay underneath. Prowl's fear and pain suddenly turned into relief. He was here! His bondmate had come to his rescue, just like he should have!

Prowl managed a nod. "How...how do I know this is real?"

Jazz just smiled softly. "There ain't nothin' in the universe that can undo our bond. Even a thousand Devastators couldn't come between us."

Prowl's tears almost turned to tears of joy! Only Jazz would say something so corny at such a time as this!

Prowl pulled him into a tight embrace. Finally, after a minute or so, he relinquished his tight hold, but still didn't let go.

"It aint over yet, though." Jazz said from beside his audio. He pulled away long enough to look Prowl in the optics. "We may still have a bond, but it mighta been... blocked somehow." Jazz leaned in. "Come back ta me, Prowl." His voice sounded almost pleading. Prowl opened his mouth to answer but found he couldn't find an answer.

Somehow, he found, just being closer to his bonded made the pain of his wounds fade slightly. And even though he couldn't say it aloud, he wanted to regain that bond just as much as Jazz did. It was nice just to hear Jazz's voice. That soft, melodic tenor. Jazz could... affect him. Suddenly Prowl found himself wanting Jazz fiercely.

"I...we have to get back to the Ark." Prowl finaly said. Jazz nodded. "Yeah. But we can take our time." Jazz scooted closer. "There's no way Soundwave can get ta you when I'm here."

Prowl wanted to regain their bond, too. But here wasn't the place, nor was it the time. And Jazz, stubborn as allways, was trying to ignore that. "There's a... chance the Decepticons could come looking for me." Prowl managed. Jazz glanced up at the horizon. "95 percent, I'd say" Prowl added on, hoping the saboteur would believe his guessed-statistic. He didn't know if Jazz knew his battle computer had crashed or not. He was hoping not.

Instead, Jazz leaned in further. "Yes, but I want you more than just 5 percent..." and kissed him.

Prowl's mind flipped back and forth between _"If this is a dream, he could be right, and it's fine."_ and _"what if it's not a dream?"_ and _"Even so, he's here, we should get our bond back. Soundwave can't hurt me if he's here. So it's not Soundwave"_

_"Waitaminute, what if it's Soundwave **as** him?"_

_"But why? I can't give Soundwave the codes, so why would he bother with me now?"_

_"It has to be Jazz."_

His bondmate, or the part of his spark that was here, or whatever, lifted Prowl to his feet.

_"Huh? how did that happen?"_ Prowl thought. _"Jazz isn't that strong"_

He could feel the faint thrumming of the Porche's engine under his armor, the edges of his field brushing against Prowl's. He kissed him back.

Jazz was not idle, one hand tracing down Prowl's hood, past a cracked headlight, down around the torn attachments for his bumper to touch the delicate wires beneath; the other brushing against Prowl's battered and open interface port. Electricity rippled across Prowl's chest, pleasure chasing pain chasing pleasure.

Prowl moaned.

"I want to feel the rest of you." Jazz nearly-whispered into his Audio. Prowl offlined his optics momentarily, then turned them back on, to make sure this was really real.

In the tiny amount of time that he had blinked, his surroundings had changed.

He no longer had the feeling of dust in his mouth or dried tears on his face. They were in their quarters on the Ark. Feeling relief as well as desire for Jazz, he slowly moved his hands down Jazz's back to hug him tightly. "The rest of me?" he asked quietly in his mate's audio, "You want the rest of me?" glossa traced the edge where black met white, and Prowl's hands caressed Jazz's midsection, fingers gently stimulating sensitive wires and circuits.

Their glossa entwined and lip components moving together, Jazz felt Prowl's fields flare against his own. He opened the access panel at his waist. Prowl chuckled a little and kissed him. "Not just yet." He whispered. his fingers expertly stroked the now-exposed circuits, sending tiny thrills of electricity through him, and delicately sought the connector inside. Legs shaking slightly, Jazz turned them as one and started them moving slowly toward the berth. Prowl kept one hand on Jazz's back, maintaining the contact of their bodies, the other caressing Jazz's interface cable. Jazz moaned and almost lost his balance. As soon as they reached the recharge berth, Jazz pulled Prowl down atop him, and gently maneuvered his unresponsive legs with his own.

Jazz purposely extended his energy field toward Prowl, knowing what kind of effect it would have on him. His fingers slid around the connector, and the plug unlatched itself. He smirked around the kisses, knowing that was what his mate wanted. Prowl's hand around Jazz's waist slipped, sending his fingertips skirting across a seam. Jazz made a soft noise, like "do it again." Prowl obliged, and his fingertips searched out Jazz's connector plug, too.

Jazz circled the circuits for Prowl's headlights, carefully avoiding the ripped metal. His fingers slid down, around another circuit, across a connection cable, Prowl shivered, moaning aloud. Jazz's fingertips slipped, sending a tiny pinprick of pain across his receptors, followed by more pleasure. Prowl leaned in to claim another kiss. "You did that purposely, didn't you?" "Did what?" Jazz grinned back with false-innocence, knowing he had.

Prowl smirked. He just barely brushed the end of his interface plug across the outlet on Jazz's midsection, making him squirm. Prowl smirked more, and Prowl kissed him around the throat, up around his jawline, back down under his chin, and finally kissed him hard as he snapped the connector in.

"Uh-uuuh." Jazz panted, feeling the energy that had seemed so strong was doubling now, coming like crashing waves.

Prowl smirked "So, you want to play rough, do you?" he asked, voice low and teasing. Prowl's optics were dimmed to a deep blue, and he sent a wave of pleasure across their link. Jazz shuddered from underneath him, and caught himself before he could cry out. Prowl leaned down, so their faces were inches apart.

"I want to hear you scream my name."

Jazz tilted his head back and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He had done that on purpose. But it made Prowl forget his trouble and his pain for a little while. And making Prowl forget his troubles seemed to be one of the things he was really good at. He just grinned.

Prowl's hand slid inside the armor plating, hitting a sensitive wire, and Jazz moaned. He looked up to find Prowl kissing his way down Jazz's hood, down his chest, midsection, and Jazz gasped out loud as Prowl's glossa flicked around the edges of his open interface. Jazz arched his back. "U-uuh.. Prowl!"

"I can't hear you."

The thin appendage circled the connected interface, pressing, teasing. Jazz moaned louder, panting.

"Nuh-uuuuhhhh! Prowl!"

A chuckle was heard, and Prowl's hand inside Jazz's chest bridged two wires, sending a thrill of electricity. Prowl looked up around his pointed chevron, the light giving him an almost wicked look. He ran his glossa around the end of Jazz's interface plug, making the saboteur squirm in ecstacy. "Stop-- uh--- playing!" he gasped. The rest of the sentence came out in a drawn out moan.

Prowl sucked the connector into his mouth, still teasing the tip of it with his glossa. Jazz squirmed harder, and arched his back, gasing for breath, He jerked his head from one side to the other, almost hitting overload right then.

"PROWL! OOOOOHHHHHH!" he whimpered loudly, and Prowl relented, sliding back up to lie face to face with Jazz, and brought their bodies back into contact, giving him a sensual kiss.

Jazz started to reach for his chest, but Prowl caught his mate's hands, forcing them up over his head. Holding his mate's hands in place with one hand wrapped around his wrists, Prowl kissed Jazz again, hard enough to press his head back onto the hard metal of the recharge berth under him, and clicked the connector into place. Jazz whimpered, and Prowl took the opportunity to slide his glossa between parted lips, soaking up what was left of the moan.

As their consciousness merged, Prowl sent a small surge of energy over the link.Not enough to send them into overload. Not just yet. Jazz replied by sending several tendrils of needle-like static electricity over the cable, like liquid lightning, silently begging for more. For Prowl to take him over, and become one with his spark again.

_"Thank you... for rescuing me..."_ Prowl whispered.

Jazz squirmed underneath him, knowing Prowl was making him wait, just to prolong the moment, and the near-torcher of having to wait a small eternity to re-unite their sparks.

_"Any time you need me."_ Jazz replied.

electricity crackled around them, and pleasure ran through both bodies. It felt as though they could feel everything, every single air current,the temperature, even how much moisture was in the heated air arround them. Every circuit was singing with sensativity, begging to be brought into the fire-and-ice ecstacy of overload.

"Are you ready?" Jazz said anxiously, trying to use his most sensuous tone, perfectly aware of how desperate he probably sounded.

Prowl trembled against Jazz, enjoying their contact despite the pain. He knew Jazz was preparing to send a surge of energy over the interface cable to him, knew it would send both of them into overload and off-line for awhile. That seemed like the best possible thing in the universe. _"you know I am"_, he said inside Jazz's processor, not bothering to use his vocalizer. _"Let me take your visor off."_

"Anything you ever want, love," Jazz purred.

Prowl slowly brought his hands up to remove the protective article. _"I love you, love to see your face , your optics when we're together like this."_ He was close to overcharge, his temperature reaching its upper bound; he caressed Jazz's face, looking deeply into his bright ruby-colored optics.

An alarm went off in the back of Prowl's CPU, but he had no energy to spare for it, the mech beneath him was claiming it all. Jazz drew Prowl's mouth back down to his. _"I love you, too."_ he said, inside Prowl's very processor. An eternal moment later, they were elbow-deep in each other again, each teasing circuits, parting wires, and finally caressing the other's spark chamber. Prowl took a deep breath and let the electricity that had been building up inside him go. Jazz knew it and sent his own surge of energy across their physical link. Prowl cried Jazz's name in pleasure despite the pain in his back. Jazz was with him, in his field, his body, his mind and even his spark.

The overload hit, and bright blue lightning crossed their link, Liquid ice and fire, The two tightened their embrace, and both of them shuddered violently. The flood of energywashed over them, and they thought their vocalisers had stopped working, and couldn't make a sound. It was more than either had felt before, going both ways through the double-link. Finally, both cried out loudly, their voices intertwined in a chorus of pure pleasure.

the room came back into focus for a second, and then faded to darkness as they fell offline.  
It seemed as though instead of two bodies with two sparks, (Jazz and Prowl), there were two forms now, but only a single spark between them. A single unified entity.

--------------------

Ratchet woke up to the alarm, and ran into the repair bay the first time Prowl cried out for Jazz. The monitors showed more processor activity than Prowl had displayed since Prime and Jazz loaded him into Ratchet's passenger compartment. As he started another diagnostic, Ratchet made note of his patient's actions.

"The rest of me?" Prowl murmured, "You want the rest of me?"

Ratchet quirked an eyebrow. "O-kay."

The diagnostic came up clean on all of Prowl's processors. His electrical field was erratic, but not alarmingly so. Wheeljack stuck his head in. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine." Ratchet called back.

Wheeljack muttered something about he should be getting rest. Ratchet gave the doorway a glare.

Prowl made some small noise and shifted slightly.

"Was that laughter?" Ratchet scanned the monitors."It's not associated with anything, so not an issue." Then Prowl made another small noise.

"Frag it, that was a moan." The CMO gave Prowl an accusatory look, imagining what Prowl might be dreaming about. and it was black, white, and blue-visored.

He shook the thought out of his head. "Like I wanted that mental picture." He told the sleeping black and white. Prowl, of course, didn't respond.

The monitors couldn't tell if Prowl was having a good dream or a bad one. He wasn't in any danger at the moment, so Ratchet decided to leave him in natural recharge and work a little more on the replacement parts. He headed for Wheeljack's workshop. "Primus knows I'm not gonna get any more recharge while Prowl's making noise out here." he gave the sleeping tactician a glance.

---------------------------------------------------------

Ratchet was almost ready to declare the bumper ready when an alarm went off. He leapt to Prowl's side. His temperature was too high, his energon levels too low. Ratchet quickly put Prowl on an energon transfusion through one of the torn lines to his missing doors. Prowl cried out for Jazz as if in response to the intrusion but then lay still again, his processors completely off-line from overcharge.

"You're going to your own room tomorrow, buddy," Ratchet said tiredly, "You can keep Jazz up all night."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

(snerk) Yeah, I decided to keep the last part in there. I realised it was part of Prowl's good dream, not the nightmare mentioned in the last chapter. Oops. Oh well. About one or two more chapters to go, and this'll be done. :-)


	8. Reunion

Here it is! the eighth and final chapter! I know, it has to end sometime.

I might be writing a sequel to it. I don't know. I'm not very good at writing Jazz in an evil mood. heh.

This chapter was written by lstarrunner, I just added a couple sentences here and there, and rearranged a couple things that didn't 'feel' right.

X-X-X-X is a perspective change, -------- is a time jump or scene change. I couldn't find any other way to write it, other than going back and forth like that. When I re-read it, it seemed a little confusing to me without those in there.

Sorry to break up the 'flow' like that, but it felt like the only way to do it.

----------------------------------

**Chapter Eight:** Reunion

About mid-morning, after cleaning up their quarters and hitting the washracks, himself, Jazz quietly let himself into the repair bay. Ratchet was not to be seen, so Jazz went straight to Prowl's side. He was now supine; the last time Jazz saw him he'd been prone so Ratchet could work on his doors. Jazz was relieved to see Prowl intact: new door-wings, new bumper and grill, new armor panels. Most of his body had been repainted; there was a dryer gently cycling warm, dry air over Prowl so the fumes didn't build up too much. A few were still dull grey metal, marred with weld-spots, but still would look as good as new once painted. So Jazz reasoned he probably couldn't take him home today. His optics had been replaced and his chevron straightened out. Jazz touched it, as gently as he was able, just to verify it was really there. Someone made a small sound near the door, like clearing the static from their vocalizer. Jazz turned, careful not to jar the table where Prowl lay.

It was Ratchet. "When he wakes up, I want you to help me with him."

Surprised, Jazz gaped at him a moment, then got a grip on himself. "Anything Ratchet." He turned back to his bonded, and sought the white hand to hold it in his black ones.

Ratchet joined him at Prowl's bedside and gently clamped a hand down on the smaller mech's shoulder. He held up a clear plastic case with a tiny chip inside it. "I suspect there are others tucked away inside Prowl." Jazz scowled in concern. Ratchet explained, "Some kind of inhibitor. I found it when I was rewiring his left side last night. I thought there was only one, but it turned out there were more than that. Wheeljack ran some tests on it, I don't think it will have left any permanent damage, but it was tucked into his hip pretty deep. Probably why he couldn't stand. I want you to watch how he moves when I release him from medical and tell me if you think he's compensating for anything."

"Ya mean..." Jazz looked from Ratchet to Prowl and back, "are you sayin' he can come home today?" That was beyond what he'd hoped for: just a few minutes with his love before being chased out of medical again.

"You'll have to bring him back for some finishing touches, but, yes, you can take him out of here when he's ready. He's just recharging normally. No sedatives."

Jazz felt relief so strong he almost missed the answering echo in his spark. It was faint, but... "Prowl, love, are you with me?" he asked the black and white before him, gently squeezing the hand he held in both his own.

Before Ratchet drifted away, he had one more bit of news for Jazz, "I also talked to Optimus this morning. You are relieved of duty until I declare Prowl fit." He held up a hand to stop any comments, "No, don't fraggin' thank me: what I was able to get from his processors was fragmented and jumbled, even though it was some of the most coherent things he said all night were while he was supposed to be recharging." The medic gave Jazz a small glare. "I don't wanna hear it, the next time he calls your name." And he left the repair bay.

Jazz turned back to his mate, concentrating on that flicker in his spark that was Prowl's.

"Prowl, love, come back ta me." He sent all the hope and love he could to that part of his spark.

-X-X-X-

Prowl felt like he was floating. Somewhere between light and darkness, yet not quite either. _"Am I dead?"_ flitted through his mind. Then he realised someone had hold of his right hand. No, he was just somewhere between sleep and conciousness. There were two voices talking, but he couldn't process what they were saying. Relief flooded his spark, but he didn't know why. Was Soundwave messing with him again? He recognized Jazz's voice: "Prowl, love, are you with me?" He tried to make his vocalizer work, to on-line his optics and answer but nothing responded. _"Why can't I answer him?"_ passed his CPU.

The other voice spoke, this time he recognized Ratchet. So, he knew he was in medical back at the Ark after all. He listened. _"So, I'm not fit for duty. Why would Ratchet need to scan my processors? Why would I be calling out for Jazz?"_

"Prowl, love, come back ta me," Jazz said, using the endearment a second time.

Prowl felt awash in love and hope but didn't know why. Confused, his logical mind tried to answer. Nothing responded. He rebooted his battle computer: no change. He rebooted his core processor: nothing. Jazz was talking to him, obviously still holding his right hand and occasionally touching his face. His logic center went on stand-by, leaving his basic CPU on-line.

"What did they do ta ya?" Jazz continued, hope beginning to be tinged by despair despite his best efforts to believe what Ratchet told him.

Prowl felt the change in his spark but couldn't find a source for it within himself. He found he had control of his body again: he brought his optics on-line and squeezed Jazz's hand. "I- I don't know," he said, and felt relief, as if it came from outside himself.

Jazz looked immensely relieved as Prowl tried to sit up. "Thank Primus!" he exclaimed softly, dropping Prowl's hand to draw him into an awkward hug, helping him sit up on the repair table.

Prowl hugged him back, feeling inexplicable waves of love and relief. Was the dream he had last night more than a dream? He couldn't remember a relationship with Jazz, but the dream had felt real, and Ratchet said he'd called out for Jazz in his recharge. It was hard to sort his own emotions out from the alien love and relief that was so strong... _"Is it coming from Jazz?"_ he mused, _"I feel...confused, but safe now."_ He decided to just follow Jazz's lead, who seemed to want him to stand up and go somewhere. Ratchet indicated Jazz was equipped to help him recover from his injuries, so he'd go with it.

-X-X-X-

When Prowl's optics lit up dimly, Jazz thought he might be imagining it. He wanted his mate back so much and now, he was awake again! Faintly, he picked up confusion through his spark that had to be coming from Prowl. Prowl spoke to him for the first time since the ordeal and Jazz felt as if the weight of Cybertron were lifted from his shoulders. "Thank Primus!" he said softly, suddenly needing to hold Prowl, to have him in his arms at least. When he realized Prowl was hugging him back, his knees almost buckled. "Let's get you home," he said, and drew back slightly to try to help his mate up.

Prowl cooperated. He moved a bit stiffly, but Jazz suspected that was to be expected from the extensive damage Soundwave had dished out. Jazz supported him as best he could, letting Prowl set the pace of both their contact and their forward motion. At the door to their quarters, Prowl insisted on keying it open himself, but his code didn't work. "That's odd," Prowl said, looking accusingly at the keypad.

Jazz watched his mate clear the entry and try again.

3-4-6-6-4.

The energon in his veins felt cold. Prowl shook his head and did it a third time.

3-4-6-6-4.

The code to his quarters before he invited Jazz to move in with him. "Prowl, lover, you changed the code. D' you remember? When ya helped me move in with ya, 'cause your quarters were bigger?"

Prowl looked at him, very little expression on his face. Jazz felt a glimmer of something from him over the bond, but it was too faint to name.

-X-X-X-

When they got to the door to his quarters, Prowl felt normal, in a place he knew. Grateful that Jazz had brought him here - he'd had a small fear Jazz might be taking him to his quarters instead - he was eager to get inside and have some time to himself to clear his processors. He keyed the door, awkwardly supported on his right side by his friend. Or, maybe he was closer with Jazz than that? What an awkward thing to want to ask someone? _"Excuse me,"_ he might say, _"but are we lovers? I had the most detailed dream of you last night!"_ Shaking his head, Prowl tried the keypad agin. the code didn't work. He tried it again, the sums of the binary representations of the letters of his name: 3-4-6-6-4. No good. A third time. Concerned, he looked at Jazz, feeling trepidation that didn't originate within himself and thinking it must really be coming from Jazz.

Jazz's words confirmed it: "Prowl, lover, you changed the code. Do you remember? When you helped me move in with you, because your quarters were bigger?"

His logic center reasserted itself and he lost the ability to stand. Jazz caught him and held him up. While his logical mind sorted the new data and came up with a probability of 97.7 percent that he was missing a large chunk of memory, Jazz valiantly took over for him. Jazz keyed the door open - first try - and half carried, half dragged his slightly larger partner into their quarters. Definitely _their_ quarters: Prowl's optics remained on-line, like his audio receptors, and he noted items in the room that had to belong to Jazz. A stereo system, an illogical painting of the a solar system being created as music from an instrument played by a strange biological being, and a disorganized shelf of blaster parts and oddments declared Jazz's presence. But it was still clearly Prowl's own room, too - his datapads, his computer console, his one memento of Cybertron were all still in their places. Coming up with a 100 percent probability that Jazz was more to him than he remembered, his logic center went back into standby mode. Just as Jazz got him to his - their! - recharge platform, he regained his motor functions.

He sat heavily on the double berth. Feeling a little desperate, he grasped Jazz's hand when he made to move away. "D-don't leave me," he said softly, suddenly embarrassed that he didn't know for sure what their relationship was. He looked up into the blue of Jazz's visor.

Jazz smiled back. Prowl became certain that the strong feelings that came through his spark really were from Jazz. Love and patience, they were, this time. "I'm just gonna lock the door, I'll come right back, promise." Prowl let him go, feeling a little foolish.

-X-X-X-

Jazz was relieved that he could feel Prowl's presence for certain now. Confusion and fear that were definitely not his own crackled through his spark. For a moment, when Prowl begged Jazz not to leave him, he was suddenly standing back in that cell where they'd found Prowl, covered in his own fluids and missing half his plating. Jazz tried to smile reassuringly and fill his spark with only love and understanding. "I'm just gonna lock the door. I'll come right back, I promise," and he squeezed Prowl's fingers before slipping away from him.

When he turned back from locking the door and setting it where only Ratchet's override code would open it, Prowl had laid down and moved to the far side of the berth. Jazz's side. Weird. "I got us a supply of energon and some other fluids in case you need 'em," he said as he returned to his mate. "Can I bring you anything?" Trying to sound as chipper as possible.

Prowl simply shook his head, reaching out to him. "Come here?" The unceartantly that flickered across their link made it almost painful to hear. Prowl, then ormally unemotional seemingly-fearless backbone of the Autobot army, nearly whispering. Jazz felt anger and regret, mostly the anger towards Soundwave for doing this, and regret at Prowl being hurt so badly. But he swallowed the emotion, and shoved it away, conciously replacing it with huis love for his bonded.

"Anything you ever want, love," he answered automatically. He sat carefully on the edge of the berth.

Prowl's body language was that of shrinking away, as far toward the wall at Jazz's side of their berth as possible. But he held out his arms to Jazz in a gesture that Jazz could only read as wanting him near. "I dreamt of you," Prowl said slowly, finally touching Jazz, almost shyly. "I... I dreamt of us." The way he said it and the flicker of desire in his spark left little doubt in Jazz's processor as to what he meant. "You said precisely that in my dream."

Jazz relaxed a little into Prowl's touch on his waist, afraid of getting too close too fast and making Prowl feel trapped against the back wall of their quarters. He reached out one hand and touched Prowl's chevron, trailed it down his face. "I think that's good," he said, "I was afraid you might not want me around anymore."

Prowl leaned his cheek into Jazz's palm and idly ghosted his fingers over the coverplate of Jazz's interface port. Jazz couldn't help but react, optics dimmed behind the visor and body arched just slightly. "I - I think I deleted a lot to... trying to keep Soundwave out, I... want to remember." Jazz's visor brightened and he held very still while Prowl spoke haltingly. "I don't think I'm up to ... what I dreamt of last night. But if... if we are ... lovers, if you are the source of the feelings in my spark... help me remember?"

_"Sweet Primus, he doesn't remember we're bonded!"_ Jazz thought. _"Well, at least he hasn't ran away from me yet."_ he added wryly. He let his hand trail down to Prowl's brand new grill while his other stilled Prowl's teasing of his interface coverplate. "I don't know what you dreamt of last night, but we can re-create as much of it as you like, just tell me what to do."

"Lay down beside me?"

What had Soundwave done to his Prowl, to make him sound this uncertain? Jazz carefully steered his processor away from thoughts of what had happened, tried to maintain only positive, welcoming emotions in his spark knowing Prowl was picking up on them. He left off touching Prowl to lay down carefully, leaving Prowl as much of the berth as he could. Prowl slid closer to him, propping himself up on one elbow and draping the other arm over Jazz's waist.

"Would you take off - would you take your visor off?"

Jazz suppressed a shudder as he connected Prowl's request to the memory he'd played out in his CPU the night before. As he took his visor off and set it gently on the floor, almost precisely as he had when he'd settled down for recharge, he said, "I think your dream had some definite memory in it, Prowl." As he turned back toward Prowl, he noticed his mate shaking violently. "What's the matter, love? Am I too close after all?"

"N-no," Prowl shook his head, optics off. He cycled air more rapidly through his cooling system. "N-no, I just needed to see your optics."

Jazz held very still, afraid he was spooking Prowl somehow. "The visor's gone, lover, just my tiny, uncalibratable optics," he listed his reasons for wearing the visor. That would normally get a chuckle from Prowl at least, who insisted Jazz's optics suited his facial structure perfectly and that Ratchet would calibrate them if Jazz let him.

Prowl on-lined his own optics and sighed in relief. "Gold," he said in wonder, reaching out to touch Jazz's forehead, optic ridge, his nose, "beautiful gold-colored optics." He leaned over Jazz slowly and kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his chin, chastely. "Interface with me?" he breathed against Jazz's audio.

Jazz allowed the coverplate of his interface port to slide open, watching as Prowl, with shaking hands, sought the cable. Prowl hesitated slightly, but Jazz just gave him as seductive a look as possible. It was a given that Prowl wanted his touch, normally, even if he protested he was too busy. He wondered if he should continue with his hands wandering about Prowl's chassis. Still shaking, Prowl nodded. Circuits screaming with want, Jazz forced himself to move only slowly. He turned on his side to face his mate, gently caressing his new bumper and grill, his replaced plating. Even the coverplate of his interface port was new, unpainted.

Prowl stopped moving.

Jazz felt a flicker of fear in his spark that had to be from Prowl. He stopped as well. "Prowl? Should I stop?"

-X-X-X-

As he gently felt for Jazz's interface cable, Prowl felt waves of desire, some of which were his own, but some were from Jazz. _"This is how it should be",_ flickered through his processor.

"Is.. it okay if I touch you?" Jazz asked. An overwhelming uncertainty mixed with the desire, and this time Prowl wasn't the source of the confusion: he knew what his mate wanted. Maybe he was just trying to make sure Prowl felt like he was in control of the situation. He nodded, and the uncertainty departed, replaced with want bordering on need. Jazz turned toward him, touching his new parts gently, and Prowl felt appreciation, desire tinged with regret, and love. Jazz touched the cover of his interface port.

A vision of Soundwave flashed through Prowl's CPU and he stopped. Stopped processing, stopped moving, stopped cycling air. Fear filled his spark. Soundwave was in his processor, giving him this beautiful fantasy to get what he wanted.

Jazz held still, too. "Prowl?" he asked, "Should I stop?"

A little fear came to Prowl that wasn't his own, but it was accompanied by concern and love. Soundwave can't mimic that! flickered through Prowl's processor. He looked into his lover's bright gold optics, rimmed with light reddish that glowed with concern. Not the demonic-ruby-Decepticon-red of the lover in his dream. No, the gold-colored optics of the Autobot-created-neutral that everyone knew, and the mech Prowl loved. With Soundwave, there was no emotion from him at all, when he... did what he did! Not even hatred or enjoyment, just coercion. Prowl cycled another 'breath' of air through his cooling system. "No," he said after a long moment, "don't stop, Jazz." And he slid the coverplate back, registering the slight discomfort of the friction on the unpainted surface. "I'll have to let Ratchet paint that soon," he said, trying to relax.

Jazz touched him again, oh so gently, and grasped the small cable with fingers that trembled. "Are you sure you want this, so soon after...?" and his voice shook.

Prowl leaned down and kissed his lip components, first reassuringly, then lustily, then desperately, moving his body closer to Jazz's to bring the connectors into contact. "I need this, need you," he whispered when he broke the kiss to look into Jazz's gold optics again. Gold, not the hellish Decepticon red of his dream. "Help me remember." He made the connection himself, pulling Jazz's connector firmly into his own, that Jazz held so tenderly.

Two fields flared and mingled into one. Two entities mingled in two processors. Two sparks flickered together. Prowl saw their relationship through Jazz's eyes, saw the parallel between his dream and Jazz's memory. He perceived their bond through Jazz, and consciously found it again, on his own side. Bodies barely touching, they lay still.

_"I love you",_ Prowl said directly in Jazz's processor. _"Thank you for finding me again."_

So completely blended were they that Jazz knew exactly how much Prowl meant by that, not just the rescue from Soundwave, but everything since. _"I love you, too."_ he said in Prowl's CPU, _"I won't ever not-find you."_

He reached for Prowl and rolled them over so Prowl's weight rested on top of him. _"Not even a thousand Devastators could keep us apart."_ Prowl heard him, and chuckled in his thoughts. _"Only you would say something so... illogical."_ Prowl returned, leaning down to kiss him.

Jazz grinned. _"Wanna carry out the rest of that dream?"_

-------------------------------

Late that evening, the Lamborghinis stopped by. Sideswipe rang the door buzzer and Sunstreaker looked impatient. After the second ring, Sideswipe looked at his brother. "Do you think they're all right in there?"

Jazz came to the door. "Oh, hi guys," he said quietly, looking back inside his room before stepping out and letting the door close behind him. Just as quietly, he continued, "What's up?"

"We came to ask you that, Jazz, haven't seen or heard tell of you all day." Sideswipe looked Jazz up and down. He certainly looked better than he had the night before, but different, somehow. Sideswipe couldn't put his finger on it. "How's he doin'?"

Jazz looked down at his feet, an oddly coy expression on his faceplates. "Remarkably well, I think," he said, body language uncharacteristically shy. "I figured I'd be sleepin' on the floor, if I was lucky enough to stay with him at all, but he seems to be... pretty okay. He's resting now." He shifted weight from one foot to the other, then said, "Thanks for stoppin' by, guys, but I gotta go." And he turned quickly and disappeared back into the quarters he shared with Prowl, where Prowl was resting.

"That's the oddest," Sideswipe said as they walked away.

"Yeah, never saw Jazz without the visor before," Sunstreaker had caught it.

"No! I knew he looked different, younger somehow, but, no visor? How did I not notice that?" Sideswipe turned to look at his brother.

"You need things to hit you upside the head to get your attention, Sides," Sunstreaker said playfully, and gently whacked him across the back of the helmet to demonstrate. "Bet you didn't notice the ozone and the interface port, either."

"Ozone!" Sideswipe said, too loudly since they were approaching a cross-corridor that might be populated. "You smelled ozone in the air?" he repeated more quietly, "Interface port? As in open. So Prowl really is okay then?"

"Probably had to prove to himself that he can still enjoy it," Sunstreaker said sagely, nearly whispering to his brother. "Not a bad idea, if you ask me. Seeing him torn up like that even got to me, you know?"

"Ratchet's good at what he does, bro'," Sideswipe replied happily.

"Yeah, but some things, you just have to do for yourself."

-X-X-X-

"Good work," Ratchet offered them rare praise the following afternoon. Jazz and Prowl had found another chip inside Prowl's plating: one as suspected in his right leg, but if it had started out in his hip like the one Ratchet found, it had migrated down into his knee, inhibiting only some of his motor control of his right foot; the other between his logic center and his motor control center. When Ratchet asked how they found it, Prowl told him he didn't want to know and Ratchet took him at his word. Jazz, he might have pressed for an answer, but if Prowl didn't want to talk about it, Ratchet would let it go. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Prowl," Ratchet had offered, grasping his forearm firmly, right hand to right hand, in the old fighters' handshake. "I wouldn't have let you out of medical if there'd been anything left I could find as easily as you could, you know."

"I know, Ratchet," Prowl answered, "and looking for them gave us an excuse to get reacquainted." He watched Jazz, knowing he was feeling coy about it, but the visor prevented anyone but the two of them knowing it. "I deleted a portion of my recent memory, trying to keep Soundwave from getting something. I even deleted the keycode to our quarters."

"Any chance he got somethin' useful from you?" Ratchet was serious as a cracked casing for once.

"Of course. So we told Optimus. The access codes are all being changed now, and we're going to shift the duty roster around for a while, just in case."

"And yer not gonna run off to answer any calls from the state police any time soon," Jazz added emphatically.

Ratchet laughed as Prowl looked at his bonded, only a flicker of ... was that amusement? ... crossing his faceplates. Quite recovered from the frightened, purely emotional creature he'd driven into his repair bay after the rescue. "Nope, not fit for duty yet, and there's nothing I can do to make you fit faster, so get outta my repair bay," Ratchet dismissed them.

"Not fit for duty?" Prowl asked, incredulous. "Why not? What am I supposed to do for another day?"

"Recover. Finish gettin' reacquainted," Ratchet thought he showed great restraint in not elaborating on that, nevertheless complaining about Prowl talking in his sleep. "Now git!"


End file.
